


Possession

by Happyritas



Series: Return Policy [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Also kinda hates MC, Bisexual Peter Parker, Black Character(s), Blood and Gore, Boys Kissing, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Clueless Peter Parker, Daredevil - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Fandoms needs flavor, Hate/Love relationship, He also kind of hates how much he loves Peter, Homophobia, Jessica Jones - Freeform, M/M, MC is just a ball of stress, Mentions and Cameos of Marvel TV shows later, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mutilation, Ned is protective of his bro, Partial Scholarship, Permanent Injury, Possession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Stress, Superpowers, Underage Working, Verbal Abuse, When it gets closer to there, Yes MC is Black, and a bit of Iron Fist, bless him, but not much of Iron Fist, ill add it in the fandoms tag, including - Freeform, mature - Freeform, my baby needs a hug, right now its just lowkey gay, scholarship, trigger warning, vine references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 40
Words: 112,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happyritas/pseuds/Happyritas
Summary: Caelum Forest hated three things.1. His birth name, Algol. It literally meant "Head of a Goat", or alternatively, "Demon God." Half the time, he didn't know which was worse.2. Tardiness. Caelum valued time and how one spent it. He was a firm believer in that in order to get respect, you must first give it. Therefore, he respected people's time, and they respected his in response.3. Peter Parker. Caelum couldn't stand Peter Parker. Not how he looked or how he sounded. Yet, Peter insisted on being Caelum's friend.Caelum hated three things, but he could control these three things. He could control what people called him and how he managed his time. He could manage.But Peter? Peter stuck to him, stubbornly, and wouldn't seem to let him out of his possession.°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°·°I do not own Spider-Man, Marvel does (or at least, this version). I only own Caelum Forest and his story.Trigger Warning: Mentions of Substance abuse, verbal abuse, and sexual assualt. If you are uncomfortable with these topics, I highly advise you do not read.





	1. - 1 -

**chapter one:**

Caelum Forest hated three things in this world.

The first thing he hated, was his first name, Algol, which meant --- quite literally --- " _Head of the Goat_ " or " _Demon Star_ ". His younger brothers had prided themselves in teasing him with that, despite knowing that he loathed it with all of his being.

His mother would, too, use the name if she was upset, but he couldn't exactly hit her with pillows or dangle her by her ankles like he did his brothers. In order to avoid this, he stayed on her good side, compiling with what she wanted and not wanting to upset her at all.

The second thing he hated was being tardy. Caelum valued his time, and resented being mismanaged with it. If he wanted to be respected, he would have to emulate it.

So, he kept a very neat schedule of all of his activities. Where he will be, when he will be doing those things, and how long it may take. He turned in class assignments on time in pristine condition and refused to give anything but his best efforts towards his education and his life.

These, he told himself repeatedly, were very good skills to have later on, and if he didn't practice now, he wouldn't be able to have as much control of it in the future.

The third and final thing, Caelum hated with all of his being was _Peter Parker_. Yes, the bumbling _idiot_ who has been drooling over the same girl since they were in middle school.

Peter Parker, the same annoyance who insisted that they were friends when clearly Caelum wanted nothing to do with him.

Peter Parker, the silly, goofy teenager who he had grown up with in middle school and somehow, some way couldn't get him to leave him alone. Just _once_ , just for one _day_ , so that Caelum wouldn't have to see his grinning face and hazelnut eyes. Just so that Caelum could breathe --- just for _moment_!

 _Yes_. Caelum hated three things. Three _entirely separate_ things that by themselves, were very much simple to deal with. He could silence his brothers when they used his birth name. He could listen and reason with his mother if she used his annoying name. He could manage his time and keep himself even.

And concerning Peter Parker... He could avoid him, ignore him, and insult him until he finally gave their one-sided friendship a rest.

These three things separate were easy to deal with, easy to... _Compartmentalize_ and sort until he could find time for later. That's how most situations went down. One issue at a time, maybe two, if it came down to it.

But all three? The unholy trinity of things Caelum just couldn't stand?

That was a match made in hell, by his standards.

**° · ° · ° · °**

Caelum say silently in the principal's office, his hand folded and shoulders squared. On his right, was no one other than Peter Parker himself, sporting a bloody nose, and busted lip, holding an ice pack to his swollen cheek. He sent occasional glares towards Caelum, but he didn't entertain him by noticing and making an even bigger scene.

On his left was Ned Leeds, Peter's best friend and follower. They were through the thick and thin together. One was rarely seen without the other. Today, he was serving as an ' _eyewitness_ ' of sorts ― even though the boy had nothing to do with the scene.

The three of them sat waiting outside of the familiar office door of Principal Davis. Caelum sighed at the thought, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

Andrew Davis was an... Interesting figure in the school. He was an older gentleman with slicked back white hair and wrinkled skin, aged with time and liver spots. He had blue eyes the colour of the deepest parts of the ocean and when he was upset, they crinkled at the corners. He was tall, heavy-set, and had a bit of a hunch --- probably from hours of leaning over a desk. His fingers were long and thin, and usually found curled around a cup of coffee. That was probably why his teeth were forever stained an ugly shade of brown.

Several times, Caelum had spoken with him, negotiating his stay at the school ― his scholarship was only partial after all. He sometimes would come up and have conversations with the staff, offering to do odd jobs during his freetime, in order to gain their favour. Because of this, much of the school staff liked him and would continue to see his stay at Midtown High School.

His main reason for repeatedly coming to the office, however, was to get extensions on his semester payments. Caelum worked a part-time job after school, a job he was not quite proud of, but necessary. It was with a small auto repair shop a few blocks from the school.

It was simple, and far enough from the school that nobody important would see him. He also worked a few hours after the school day ended, mainly because most kids had gone home at that time, or their extracurricular activities were done.

The job was mainly to pay for the other part of his tuition, the part his partial scholarship didn't pay for ― including lunch and books as well. Midtown High wasn't a public school, it was a very pompous private one, and most students came from big families to get to such a place.

Caelum didn't have that, unfortunately. But, he did have his wits and intelligence, two things he was justly proud of. His reputation was known throughout the school for this, and he wouldn't allow someone as simple as Peter Parker to ruin that. Not after all the work he put in to be here ― and to keep his place.

The bell rang for the class change just as the door opened and Principal Davis stepped through. His eyes glazed the room, seeing Caelum, Peter, and Ned. His eyes narrowed and Caelum straightened in his seat. "Principal Davis," He greeted, but the man stopped him with a motion of his hand. Then, he waved them inside, leading the three boys into his office. He turned and left the door open for the three of them.

Caelum was on his feet immediately, and striding towards the office he knew so clearly. In front of Principal Davis' desk, were three chairs, one of them obviously pulled from the wall, because it didn't match the other two.

Caelum sat himself in the middle, watching carefully as Principal Davis sat down on his desk. Ned and Peter situated themselves beside him, Ned on his left, Peter on his right. Always the same, always the way Caelum wanted it to be.

Principal Davis made himself comfortable for a few moments before his eyes settled on Caelum, "What seems to be the issue?" He finally asked.

"He," Ned pointed to Caelum, "Pushed Peter down the stairs!"

Caelum resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes, wanting to swat Ned's hand away. "This is hardly the case, sir," Caelum replied simply. "He and I were heading the same way, at the same pace, and we collided. I grabbed the side-rail and he, unfortunately, fell." Principal Davis rose an eyebrow, "The security footage will show the same, if Ned believes my story is false."

Principal Davis turned to Peter, who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but in this office at the moment. "And what is your story, Mr. . .?" He trailed off.

"Parker." Peter answered."

"Porter. What is your story?" Caelum suppressed the twitch of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

"I. . . uh," Peter tried to scratch his messy hair ― something Caelum always wondered if it were against the dress code ― and winced. He must've hit his head hard, was Caelum supposed to feel guilty? "It's kinda fuzzy. . . uhm, we were both heading for the steps, and. . . Cael _did_ grab the rail."

"He _tripped_ you!" Ned argued, unnecessarily loud. Caelum would ask for him to be left outside had Peter's memory, and headspace not been compromised. "I saw! You two were arguing and he tripped you."

"I did no such thing, sir," Caelum defended simply. "And, I do believe that your take on the story, Ned, was that I allegedly _pushed_ Parker. Now, you're saying I _tripped_ him? Which was it?" Ned went red with anger, his small, almond eyes narrowing at Caelum. Caelum was unfazed.

"You didn't help him afterwards!" Ned accused. "You just stared at him!"

"I was in such a state of shock, I didn't know _what_ to do, at first," Caelum admitted. "I didn't know what happened. Are you going to sue me for freezing up?" Ned looked like he wanted to hit Caelum.

The late bell rang, and Caelum let out a sigh. _Tardiness_ ― he _hated_ tardiness. "It seems the story is rather mixed between all three of you," Principal Davis said. "Mr. Porter, as you are the one who is injured, what do you believe should be the treatment of Mr. Forest? Do you believe he pushed you and the fall was intentional?"

"I. . ." Peter looked at Caelum, who returned the gaze. His eyes weren't narrowed or angry. He just looked confused, sad, and hurt.

Peter, _unfortunately_ , knew Caelum. He knew that he was on a partial scholarship, only because Peter had the full scholarship. He knew that if this blemish was on his record, that Caelum had allegedly attacked another student, his scholarship would be revoked, despite the favours owed to him and the hard work he put in place to keep his stay here. Caelum would have to go home and tell his parents that he was no longer allowed to go to the prestigious school that they all praised him for getting into ― the few times he had received his parent's praise.

To have this revoked, to have this taken away after all the work and stress he has put himself through to keep himself coming there. . . Caelum probably wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Mr. Porter? Did Mr. Forest attack you?" Principal Davis asked, and Peter turned back to the man.

"No," He finally said. "It was an accident. Caelum didn't push me." Caelum didn't realize the tension built between his shoulders until the words left Peter's lips. He tried not to show his instant relief.

"Well, there you have it," Caelum said, and gave Principal Davis an easy smile.

"But―" Ned motioned across Caelum to Peter. " _Look at him_!"

"Mr. Leeds," Principal Davis stopped him. "If Mr. Porter is unconcerned, then I believe it is not your place to be upset for him. He is capable of speaking for himself, aren't you, Mr. Porter?"

" _Parker_ ," Peter corrected, but it was muffled and Principal Davis waved a hand, unconcerned.

"Exactly. Now, you boys will be late. Take Mr. Piercer to the Nurse's Office if he needs to. Hurry back to class ― Mr. Forest, if you could stay behind, please."

Ned and Peter stood, grabbing their bags. Ned shot him a look, but left, Caelum stayed seated, and Principal Davis folded his hands, smiling at him. "Sir?" Caelum asked.

"I had Ms. Keeley contact your mother," He said, and Caelum tried not to wince. "She will be here soon."

"With all due respect sir, that was unnecessary," Caelum said, trying not to express his frustration. He curled his hands tighter, and kept his gaze even on the man.

"Altercations like this will not be tolerated, Mr. Forest," Principal Davis explained. "Midtown High has a lot of eyes watching it. We can't exactly have fist-fights in the halls. We aren't some _primitive_ public school, I'm sure you understand that."

"Yes, of course, sir," Caelum replied easily.

"And, I contacted your mother for a different reason," Principal Davis leaned back in his seat, the chair squeaking as it tried to support his. . . _mass_. "Your tuition hasn't been paid this month." Caelum inhaled, that. Oh _shit_.

"We have been working on it," Caelum replied easily. "Money's been. . . _tight_ this month. I ha― _we_ haven't had the income to foot the bill quite yet, but I assure you, sir, it will be coming soon. Either this week or the next."

"I hope so, Mr. Forest," Principal Davis moved to leave his chair, and stood, with much effort on his part. He walked over to Caelum, to kept his gaze even, staring at the spot where he had left as he walked over.

He cupped Caelum's face with his hand, forcing him to look up at him. Caelum swallowed hard, his heart thrumming in his chest. His spinly thumb trailed Caelum's cheek. "I'd hate to see you leave, Mr. Forest," he whispered, his voice no more than a hush, just for them, the two of them. "Lock the door, will you? I'll write you a note for your next class."

"Will. . ." Caelum swallowed, "Will you call my mother again? Tell her that everything is fine?" He had to ask, he had to be sure.

Principal Davis smiled, "Of course," he said, and walked ― more like _waddled_ ― to his desk. He picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number. Caelum watched, patiently. "Mrs. Forest? Yes, this is Principal Davis, there's no need for you to come up to the school ― everything has been handled. Your son," He looked at Caelum, "Is a _very_ convincing boy. They explained that it was merely an accident. Yes, the other boy is fine. No, he will not be suspended. He is being sent back to class now, actually. Yes. . . yes, thank you, Mrs. Forest. You have a good day, goodbye." He set the phone back on the receiver, and Caelum felt another weight leave his shoulders.

Now, was his part of the deal. He closed his eyes for a minute, exhaling as he listened to Principal Davis fiddle with his belt buckle.

**° · ° · ° · °**

Caelum hated three things in this world. His first name, being late, and Peter Parker.

There, however, was a fourth hate. One he hated secretly, more than any of the other three combined, but he _knew_ was a necessity.

He _hated_ Principal Davis.


	2. - 2 -

 

** chapter two:**

Caelum sat quietly, screwing in the final bolt on the old-school radio. “ _Okay_. . .” He muttered, turning it back around and flicking on the switch in front.

 

It crackled and hissed as Caelum played with the knobs. Finally, it began to make coherent noises. Distant voices, and the steady hum of music. Caelum double checked the antenna sticking out the top, adjusting them when necessary. Then, he tuned the knobs again.

 

Finally, steady jazz filtered through the radio. Caelum leaned back, rubbing his hands on the raggedy grey towel beside him. “Mr. Goldson!” He called to the main room. “I’m done!”

 

He heard a bit of shuffling and a few things being moved out of the way, before finally a older man stepped out and looked at him.

 

He was very short, heavy set and always wore a scowl, giving him the look of a disgruntled troll. He had rectangular glasses bridged on his nose and wrinkles from squinting around his eyes. He was missing a finger on his right hand ― he claimed it was a hunting accident, but in the same sentence said that he crushed it with a mallet. In his left hand was a short cane, which he used to get around ― and occasionally swat Caelum with.

 

He always smelt of tobacco, and was usually found with a cigarette defying gravity between his lips. Caelum hated the smell, it choked his lungs and it stuck to his clothes, but he couldn’t get Mr. Goldson to quit.

 

“It workin'?” Mr. Goldson asked gruffly, looking behind Caelum to the radio.

 

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied, stepping away and to show the radio that was still playing steady jazz.

 

Mr. Goldson, however, frowned, “ _Okay_. . .” he muttered, not being able to find fault in this radio. Caelum breathed a quiet sigh, also not wanting to get in a row with the older man. “Come over 'ere, I need you to lift some of these boxes.” He said, and waved him out of the back room.

 

Caelum followed as Mr. Goldson hobbled towards the door. They were in a auto-repair shop. Usually, Caelum spent his time there repairing car parts, or moving Mr. Goldson’s endless supply of heavy boxes ― like he was doing today. But, when he came in that afternoon, Mr. Goldson had him fix his radio, which was almost as prehistoric has Mr. Goldson himself. It was a stubborn thing, but Caelum managed it, like he did everything else.

 

Mr. Goldson pointed to the dozen of large boxes on the ground. “I need you to move those to the work room,” he ordered.

 

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied and bent down. The box was immensely heavy ― which made Caelum wonder how this old man got it in the house in the first place. Mr. Goldson turned his back to leave as Caelum struggled to lift it. Then, he remembered something from earlier. “Mr. Goldson!” The man froze, turning around to see him. “I, uh, didn’t get my check last week. . . do you still have it?”

 

Mr. Goldson curled his lip, annoyed. “You’ll get it, be patient boy,” he scowled, looking more like the troll than ever. Caelum knew money was an unpleasant subject for the older man, but. . . he wasn’t keen on doing Principal Davis any more favours.

 

“I’m just asking,” Caelum continued, “Because my family has a few overdue bills to pay. I. . . I don’t want us getting kicked out of our house. My dad’s already fixing on getting us to move soon, probably to Brooklyn. I don’t want to leave this place, and I want to help my folks. . .” He trailed off, waiting for Mr. Goldson to answer. Waiting for him to take the bait.

 

“. . . It’ll be in the office tonight,” he grumbled, and hurried out of the room before Caelum could ask anymore questions.

 

Caelum didn’t need to, he smirked to himself and picked up the box, continuing to walk down the hall, cutting across the main floor and depositing it in the back. He rolled his shoulders when he was finally able to be rid of it, before turning to repeat the process.

 

**° · ° · ° · °**

 

Caelum didn’t make it back home until late that night. He was certainly cutting it close too. His parents didn’t get back home until 9 or 9:30, and he arrived back at 8:55. He shoved his key in the lock, finding his two younger, twin brothers watching the television dumbly. Caelum tossed his keys on the table, and the two boys hardly looked at him. He kicked his shoes off and went to the fridge, “Did y'all take out that meat like mom asked?”

 

“Yes,” The twins replied, not looking away. Caelum frowned, looking on the countertop, and finding the ground beef.

 

Caelum went to his room to change, then he came back, washed his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and began to cook. He pulled the meat into a bowl and began softening it, adding his own spices and flavours as he did so. Then, he began to section them off individually, and creating small meat-mounds. He turned the stove on, pouring a bit of oil and other seasonings in the pot, before dropping the meat mound on top. He did the same thing about a dozen more times, setting them out individually as he waited for the burgers to cook.

 

The door opened as Caelum pressed the meat down. He heard the high heels of his mother’s shoes on the wooden floor. “Are the dishes washed?” She asked the twins. From their silent reaction, she had her reply. They scrambled up immediately, turning the television off and going to the dishwasher, unloading it haphazardly.

 

His mother, Apolline Forest, came to his side as he cooked silently, dropping the cooked patties in a therma-glass pan. “How was school?”

 

She was a rather tall woman, even without her heels. Her hair was always relaxed and pulled back. Her skin was dark from her days under the sun in Northern France, where she grew up. Caelum sometimes wondered how his father and his mother ever found themselved compatible, but never asked her himself. It was unnecessary information.

 

“It was well,” Caelum replied monotonously. He cooked the last few patties and turned to go to the fridge. His mother barred his way. Caelum rose an eyebrow.

 

“The Principal called me,” she continued, and Caelum forced himself not to flinch as the name.

 

“I am aware,” Caelum replied. “The situation has been handled. It was an accident, the boy is fine.”

 

His mother rose a thick eyebrow to match his own. Caelum could almost see her glazing through his lie. Peter was fine, of course, but it wasn’t an accident. “You can’t afford to lose this scholarship, Algol.”

 

A frown pinched Caelum’s cheeks, “You know I don’t like that name,” He said clearly, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone. “And, I am well aware of the precarious situation regarding my stay at Midtown High.” He was more aware of it than his mother could ever _dream_ of. “I won’t lose my scholarship.”

 

His mother smirked, “A full ride to a school like that isn’t easy to come by.” Caelum knew that as well, because he didn’t have the full ride. “What are you making?”

 

Grateful for the change of subject, Caelum turned back to the stove, flipping the patties. “Burgers,” He replied. “And, there are vegetables in the fridge.”

 

His mother nodded approvingly. “I’ll be back. You might want to take a shower before dinner ― your track meet is still on you.” That was also another lie he told his parents. Caelum didn’t go to a track meet. His ‘ _track meet_ ’ was actually his shift at the repair shop. If his father found out that he was spending his time fixing broken things than being eligible for a scholarship for college. . . he’d have more problems to worry about than just Principal Davis.

 

His mother got washed up, then offered to finish the rest so he could do the same. Caelum was grateful and made his way to his room. He used to share it with the twins, but after he fought a long and hard campaign of getting his own room, his parents finally gave in. A few of his key points was that he needed his own study space and a way to be able to keep his things in order, which was something the twins ruefully disliked.

 

Caelum set his bag on his bed, and stretched. His feet hurt and he wanted to go to sleep, but he had mounds of schoolwork to do, especially from the class he missed during his time with Principal Davis. Luckily, his teacher was kind enough to send him the notes, but that only meant more work on his part.

 

Caelum set his stuff out, keeping his check from Mr. Goldson securely hidden in a notebook, that he used to calculate all of his spendings in order to properly budget his money. He grabbed his towel, and a change of clothes, before heading to the bathroom. He was stopped, however, but the twins, Castor and Pollux.

 

They both had tight, curly hair, and freckles. They were near identical in every way except one ― Castor has a freckle on his left cheek that was a bit off than Pollux’s.

 

Caelum shook his head at the names. _Castor, Pollux, Algol. . ._ His parents were seriously obsessed with astronomy.

 

“What do you want?” Caelum demanded, annoyed. His father would be back soon and he would rather finish his shower before this happened.

 

“You were late,” Castor said.

 

“We need a five dollars for our silence.” Caelum frowned, he didn’t have that kind of money to be dishing away. But, if the twins told on him. . .

 

“Let me take my shower first,” he conceded. “I’ll give it to you tonight.” This pleased the boys, they turned and left, hiding in their own room on the apartment. Caelum sighed, rubbing his temples. This was going to be a tough couple of weeks. With his tuition, paying the boys, school, and work. He’d be skipping a few meals, at least.

 

But, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

 

Caelum showered quickly and got dressed for dinner. He went to help his mother in the kitchen, getting the food ready, and the table set. She was just setting down the corn and asparagus when the door opened, revealing his father.

 

Justice Forest was a tall, slender man. He had dark shaved hair that was prickled with grey, and a stubbly beard. He was muscular and strong, but that wasn’t from doing manual labour jobs. He worked as a chemical engineer for a big name company Caelum never bothered to learn the name of. He wasn't exactly important, from his position, but Justice always tried to make it look like he was.

 

His mother was similar, graduating from Brown University with a degree in nursing. She was a nurse at a local hospital, and from what her patients and colleagues told him, a very good one at that. They all expected Caelum to live up to these standards, a nurse and an engineer. That was his fate ― his legacy, if you will.

 

Caelum stood straight as his father stepped over, “Smells good,” he commented, wrapping his arms around his mother’s shoulders. “What is it?”

 

“Burgers and vegetables,” she replied warmly. “But I can cook that salmon if you’d prefer that.”

 

His father didn’t seem to be listening, he pushed his face in his mother’s neck and she laughed, rubbing his head. “I would like that. . .” he murmured, and his mother laughed again.

 

“Please, show a bit of discretion,” Caelum spoke, breaking up the heartfelt moment so he didn’t vomit on the spot. “Isn’t this how you had the twins?” His mother chuckled and his father rose an eyebrow, but moved away anyway.

 

“How was track practice?” Justice asked his son.

 

“Well,” Caelum replied, keeping his lies short and precise. Too much would cause disentanglement.

 

“The food will be ready soon,” His mother said, and Caelum felt a bit relieved. “Go wash up, and call the boys in, please.” Justice gave his wife a peck on the cheek and Caelum suppressed an eye roll. Instead, he turned away, grabbing the burgers from the oven, where he put to keep them warm.

 

Soon, the twins came running into the room, both holding toy transformers in their hands. “Put those away,” his mother scolded. The twins set them on the counter, positioning them in delicate battle positions. They sat on the side of the table together, Castor nearer his mother, Pollux his father. Caelum sat near his father, his hands folded in his lap, waiting for his father’s permission to move.

 

Beside Caelum, was an empty place. The table set, but nobody sitting there. Beside Caelum, a ghost sat, waiting to be served as well, waiting to be acknowledged.

 

Nobody ever looked beside Caelum.

 

As his father said grace, Caelum made a checklist of things he needed to do after dinner. Help wash up, start out on the history work he missed out on, finish the final draft of his science essay, finish his math worksheet, start researching for his presentation on the history english dialectic in the African-American community. He also had a few papers for his Russian class, along with trying to figure out where in the world he was going to get the money for the―

 

“ _Algol_!” His father’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He turned so sharply, he could’ve gotten whiplash.

 

“Yes, sir?” He asked, and heard his brothers giggling annoyingly across from him.

 

“Your mother was telling me that Principal Davis called home this morning?” Caelum stared at his father, then realized what his father was referring to.

 

He calmly assessed the situation. He already explained that the issue was no big deal to his mother, but his father would want to know every detail. He would want to know who was involved in the accident, if he would have to pay anything ― which he wouldn’t.

 

His father knew of Peter. He didn’t approve of Peter, thinking him to be a bad influence on Caelum. He didn’t know that Peter took the full scholarship to the school.

 

“Yes,” Caelum replied, taking the plate of vegetables from his younger brother. He laid out his food, thinking of his next few words carefully. “There was a situation at school. I was having a conversation with one of my classmates, and he didn’t see where he was going. He tripped going down the steps. Seeing as I was the only other person there, it made it easier for his friend to assume I had pushed him,” which he did. “He is well, no major injuries. We went to the Principal to clear the manner.”

 

“You need to be more careful,” His father warned, and Caelum drowned his annoyance. “That school is expensive. You’re lucky you got that scholarship ― you don’t want to be paying for it.”

 

“Yes, sir,” He replied, spooning a few vegetables on his plate. “I will.”

 

“Good,” He nodded firmly. “What else is going on at that school?”

 

“Nothing important,” Caelum replied. “A few clubs will be opening up soon, but I’m not interested.”

 

His father nodded, firmly, “That’s good. But, you need a back up,” Caelum twitched, did he say something wrong? “If that track thing doesn’t come out, you need to have something else you can do.”

 

“That’s true,” His mother agreed. “If you get hurt, you can’t do that anymore.”

 

“Join a club,” his father ordered. “I heard there was a–a, decathlon there? I saw on the news. Join that ― that’ll open up some opportunities for college. Nothing but the best for _MIT_ , right?” He laughed, nudging Calum's arm. Caelum didn’t look at him, his mind was reeling. _Decathlon_? He didn’t have _time_ for a decathlon!

 

“Yes, sir,” he said, and his father nodded, satisfied.

 

He turned to his brothers, “What did you two do, huh?”

 

“There’s a field trip coming up!” Castor announced.

 

“It’s at the statehouse,” Pollux said.

 

His dad made a face, “The _statehouse_? What do you need to go to the statehouse for?” He scoffed. “Not doing anything for _me_.”

 

“ _Justice_ ,” His mother warned, and his father gave annoyed look.

 

“Did you see what happened the other day?” His father scoffed, “Voted in _favour_ of _gay_ marriage!” His father sneered, dumping a bit more vegetables on his plate. “ _Please_! They’re supposed to vote for us! That’s bull―”

 

“ _Justice_!” Apolline stopped him, and his father shook his head, annoyed. Caelum felt a chill run up his spine, and he inhaled softly.

 

His father noticed and laughed, “You get what I mean,” He grinned, slapping Caelum on the back. He tensed, swallowing, and continued to eat his vegetables. “What do you think, Algol?”

 

Caelum ate his food, trying to buy himself more time, his mind scrambling for an excuse, something to say that would get his father off is back. “I. . . I agree,” He said, wiping at his mouth. “May I be excused? I have a bit more work to finish.”

 

“Yes,” his mother replied, “Of course.” Caelum stood from the table, grabbing his plate, and rinsing it off before setting it in the dishwasher. He nodded to his mother and father before quickly leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may change this updating schedule to every Sunday instead of every other Wednesday bc I have Soo many chapters and I want them out lol. 
> 
> What do y'all think?


	3. - 3 -

**chapter three:**

  
Caelum worked for hours, he finished writing notes for his history, and finished the final draft for his science paper ― he would print it in the morning at school. He did as much research as he could muster for his english project and was halfway through his math homework. Well, he was until he heard a loud knock.

The sound made him jump, his pencil falling out of his hand, and he turned to his door. He didn't see a shadow underneath. He check his watch, **1:21 AM.** Who the _hell_ was up?

The knock came again and Caelum realized it was sharp-sounding ― it was on glass.

He turned, his curtains were pulled together, but the lights outside shadowed a figure behind his window. He tentatively walked over, his eyes narrowed in confusion. He peeked behind his window, seeing the familiar smirking face and twinkling brown eyes.

Caelum let out a audible groan. He pulled the window up ― just a little so he could shout at the boy. A late, autumn chill brushed in the room. "What are you _doing_ here?" He demanded, upset. He was wasting time and he had a pile of homework to finish.

"I couldn't sleep," he replied, "And, I saw your light on. Why are you still up?"

"Why are you _here_?" Caelum retorted irritably. This boy, this boy that he _hated_ , never seemed to be able to leave him alone. He was already beyond tired after the day's events. The last thing he needed was Peter Parker outside his window with a bad case of insomnia.

"C'mon, we used to do this all the time!" Peter said, "Let me in, it's _freezing_!"

"You shouldn't have gone outside," Caelum deadpanned, ready to close the window and get back to his work.

"I wanna talk," Peter said, now a lot more serious. "Can we talk?"

"Not at 1 AM."

"I _know_ you pushed me." Caelum froze. He wanted to shut the window; he should shut the window. It was too late for this and he had a ton of work to do. He didn't have time for confessions on his bed. He didn't have time for Peter Parker at 1 AM who just wanted to talk and not want to do. . . _other_ things.

Caelum closed his eyes, he was too tired, he needed to focus. He needed to get Peter _away_. " _No_."

" _Please_ , Caelum," Peter begged. Caelum couldn't take his begging.

Caelum inhaled, looking at his bed, then at his door. The lights in the hall were off, but the walls were thin. Someone could hear him.

He went to his bed, grabbing his covers and his jacket, then went to his desk. He picked up his math book, notebook, and a pen. He folded these things up, and opened his window.

He handed them to Peter, who took them with a surprised look. Then, he turned off his light, slipped on his slippers, and crawled out the window. He left it cracked so he could get back in. He took his stuff from Peter, "We're going to your floor," He said and began to walk down the metal staircase.

Peter looked a bit shocked, but followed Caelum anyway. Caelum sat down in front of Peter's window, and delicately wrapped his blanket around his himself. Peter sat beside him, criss-cross and rubbing his arms. "Go on," Caelum spoke, pulling up his math book and finishing his work.

"Right," Peter cleared his throat. "I, uh," He rubbed his neck. "I'm sorry." Caelum rose an eyebrow, but didn't take his eyes off his paper.

"If you brought me all the way here to say, ' _I'm sorry_ ', I'm actually going to have to sue you, Parker."

Peter rolled his eyes, "You pushed me down the stairs. I should sue _you_."

"Nobody would believe you, and we're getting off topic. What is it?"

"I want to be friends again, Cael," Peter admitted. "What _happened_ to us? We. . . used to be _close_."

"We _are_ close ― you're my _neighbour_."

"I want to be _friends_!" Peter insisted. "Why can't we―"

"I don't have _time_ for friends," Caelum replied coldly. "And I'm not at that school to have a kumbayah, Parker. I have wo― _things_ that I have to do. I don't have time for. . . _this_." And he couldn't live with just ' _this_ ' either. Just ' _friends_ ', it was almost an insult. The farther he distanced himself from Parker, the easier it was to get everything else done.

"Why did you push me?" Peter demanded.

"You were annoying me, we were going down the stairs ― it was awfully convenient." Peter let out an angry growl, and Caelum chuckled, "Getting angry? That's _adorable_ , Parker." _It was_. "Is there anything else you want?"

"I want to be friends again."

"Not going to happen. Next?"

"Can we at least not be. . . pushing each other down stairwells?"

Caelum paused, his pencil dangling over his paper. ". . . _Fine_. I can live with that. Just stay away from me."

"We got to the same _school_ ," Peter frowned. "And, we're _neighbours_!"

"Figure it out," Caelum replied, finishing his last problem and finally looking at Peter.

The city lights behind him made Peter's face glow. His eyes sparkled, flecks of light brown shining through the hazelnut colour. He had freckles, they were hard to see unless you were looking at them directly, and were almost the same colour as his skin. If Caelum wanted to, he could place each and every one of them. His lip was still slightly swollen, and his nose had a bandage on it, but that didn't discern from his appearance. His lips were slightly pinkish and glistened with the city lights shining on him.

Caelum suddenly had the unsettling urge to lean in, to run his hands through Peter's hair. To feel his warm lips against his own, to―

Caelum stood suddenly, and his textbook slipped from beside him. Caelum moved, trying to grab it, but it was already far gone. It fell against the side of the garbage can, and landing, spread out, on the dirty concrete. Caelum stared at it, his eyes wide. He suddenly remembered how much the book costed him ― _sixty-five dollars_. He remembered having to buy the books and being late on a tuition payment. He remembered what it costed him for an extension.

Caelum was shaking, his heart pounding, his eyes wide, leaned over the rail and staring at the ground. "Cael?" Peter's voice shook him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Caelum turned briskly, grabbing the rest of his stuff, "Leave me alone," he snapped, cold anger flooding him. This was all _his_ fault! He wouldn't be out here if it wasn't for _Peter_! He wouldn't have a wasted book if it wasn't for _him_! This was all because of _him_! _All of it_! He was sick and tired of this boy ruining _everything_ for him!

"Caelum, _wait_!" Peter cried, grabbing his arm, and Caelum yanked his arm away, bumping into the side of the rail, sharply. He hissed in pain, but continued to leave. He ran up the steps, and Peter didn't follow him. He opened his window and threw his stuff on his bed.

Caelum shut his window and closed his curtains. He fell against his bed, his side hitting his notebook. He ignored it, and covered his face with his hands. He was sick of this. He couldn't take this anymore.

Caelum needed to get his act together. He had at least three years to go. He needed to calm down, reassess the situation, and deal with it.

He couldn't waste any more time.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum didn't get any sleep that night. He finished the rest of the work due for the next morning. He got up early, claiming he had an early track meet, and left the house. The first train left at 6:30 AM. His bank didn't open until 8 AM, but the ATM outside of it worked easily.

Caelum grabbed his keys off the table and left the apartment. However, he stopped when he noticed something haphazardly wrapped in a pillowcase at his door. He closed the door behind him and stooped down to grab it. He unwrapped it carefully, wondering if it had been a bomb.

Instead, he found a copy of his textbook. It was in pristine condition, much unlike his actual used textbook. This one was new ― it was very obvious ― but it was slightly worn, the corners were bent a bit.

Caelum opened it and was stunned at the name he found inside the cover.

**PROPERTY OF PETER PARKER**

  
Caelum wanted to swear. He wanted to run downstairs and chuck the book at Peter's door. But, he knew that he needed the book, and Peter knew as well. He also knew that it would be at least a month before he was able to get another one.

Caelum curled his lip, frustration creeping through him. He was sick and tired of this boy ― well, he was tired in general, but it was mainly because of him.

Caelum took the book, sliding it into his backpack, and folding up the pillowcase.

He left the pillowcase at Peter's door before going for his train.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum handed the envelope containing the money for his tuition to the secretary. It was addressed to Principal Davis, with his name on the side. Mrs. Keeley took it with a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Keeley," he said and she gave him a happy smile. "And, that blouse is absolutely _stunning_ ― where did you get it? I'm trying to find my mother a gift for her birthday."

" _Oh_!" She blushed and Caelum gave her a charming smile. "Well, funny story actually!" Mrs. Keeley went on about the origin of the blouse ― which wasn't a funny story at all.

Caelum smiled and listened to her story. He checked the clock behind her, **7:52** , he'd have to be in class soon. He said goodbye to the woman, who waved him goodbye happily. He exited the class, holding the door open as another teacher was leaving behind him. He looked at the man, Mr. Harrington.

Caelum remembered his father's orders from the night before. "Mr. Harrington," Caelum called after him before he could leave. The man stopped and turned at the sound of his name. "Sorry to disturb you," he said, approaching the man. "But, I heard you run the decathlon team?"

"Yes, I do," Mr. Harrington replied, grinning at the potential of new-blood.

"Is there any way I could sign up. I know I'm late, but―"

"No, no, it's fine," Mr. Harrington assured. "Not many people are interested in Decath, honestly. There's a meeting tomorrow afternoon after school, you're welcome to join and sit in if you believe it is something you want to do. We hold practices in room 112, or in the auditorium, if we can get a spot."

Caelum gave a grateful nod, "Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure," Mr. Harrington replied, holding out his and to shake. "I can't wait to see you there." Caelum agreed, even though the absolute last thing he wanted to do was join the club.

He was certain it would be more taxing on his finances, maybe if he made the excuse that he needed more one-on-one practice to get ready for tournaments, he could take extra hours for the shop. Caelum said goodbye to the man and hurried to class, hoping that nothing else would decide to rear his ugly head and bring up another obstacle for him to stumble over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update. I'm sick and my family is trying to move. So, expect the updates for all of my stories to be a bit late. 
> 
> But I hope you've enjoyed the chapter anyway! Next chapter will be June 10, 2018!


	4. - 4 -

** chapter four: **

  
Caelum arrived at classroom 112 at 3:30 PM, usually around the time he would be clocking in for work. He talked to a few of his colleagues at the shop and had someone cover his shift.

Caelum knew he was going to be joining the team ― he had no other choice in the manner ― but he wanted to see what it was like first before he was forced to actually spend his afternoons there. There was still the possibility of it becoming another ‘ _track meet_ ’ and an open avenue to more time at work.

Caelum entered the classroom on time. He had his backpack full of work he had to finish. He was well aware of the time he was absolutely wasting being here, but decided not to verbalize it.

Inside the classroom, was a senior, Elizabeth, more commonly known as Liz, Allen. Beside her, was a African-transfer student he didn't know the name of, along with an Asian girl that was also a senior, a plus-size girl, and a shy looking freshman.

Mr. Harrington greeted him easily, “ _Hello_! I'm glad you could join us! The rest of the group will be here soon!”

“Thank you for having me,” he replied, shaking his hand and forcing as much earnestness in his voice could muster.

Mr. Harrington rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “So, what brought you to take interest in the decatha-life?” The man asked and Caelum tried not to roll his eyes.

“My father was in it, in his high school years,” Caelum lied easily. “He thought it would be good if I had the same experience.”

Mr. Harrington bought it and smiled, “Sounds good! Sounds good! So, we're just studying now. It's not too late in the season for you to join us, but it may be more comfortable if you started as an substitute opposed to being on the main team,” Mr. Harrington explained. “Each team has nine members, but it would do well for a replacement if something were to happen.”

“Alright,” Caelum agreed, and Mr. Harrington began to introduce him to the other teammates as they filed into the room. The Asian girl was Cindy Moon, the African student was Abraham, or Abe, Brown. The plus-size girl introduced herself as Sally Avril, although she preferred being called Sal or Salv, and the shy boy was Timothy McKeever, who everyone called Tiny.

As Mr. Harrington was explaining the ins and outs of the Decathlon, two more students entered the room. One, was Michelle Jones, a _questionable_ emo who usually kept to herself and made strange remarks. The other, was the very well known ― and just as easily, well despised ― Eugene Thompson, who went around calling himself ‘ _Flash_ ' for no apparent reason.

Caelum introduced himself to those who had arrived on time ― or within a reasonable five-minute window of the time allocated. There were seven members so far, they were missing two.

The team had started practicing, going over their study guide for the topic ― this year, it was the Pacific Ocean. It was fifteen minutes into the practice when the door opened again. Caelum didn't turn to look at the last two ― he didn't entertain the attention of those seeking to waste other people's time.

Then, they spoke, “Sorry we're late,” Peter said. “We got held up by a teacher. Who's that?”

Caelum turned, frustration and anger swallowing him whole. Of course. _Of course_ Peter _Perfect_ Parker was on the decathlon team. _Of course_ his father would want him to join the one extracurricular where he would have to spend an hour with the only person he hated more than anything in this world. _Of course_ , it would be his luck!

Peter stared, dumbfoundedly at him and Caelum felt ready to bite his entire head off. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“I am your new teammate,” Caelum said, his voice eerily calm and unsettling. He wanted to leave and smash his skull in a wall.

“You have _got_ to be shitting me,” Ned said, and for once, his vulgar words emulated what Caelum felt. He added, “Sorry, Mr. H,” after receiving a sharp glare.

Caelum rubbed at his eyes. He was absolutely exhausted and didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted to go back home and scream until his lungs bled.

Unfortunately, he'd be spending the next hour trying not to notice Peter, who was sitting ―   _conveniently_ ― right next to him.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum left the classroom at the first chance he got. He _couldn't_ do this. This was where he'd draw the line. An hour of sitting annoyingly close to Peter Parker had done it. Close enough that their arms would brush, causing him to jerk away, that he could see the muscles in his jaw work whenever he talked.

Nope. _Nope_. He couldn't do this ― he _couldn't_. It was _torture_. How would he relay the news to his father? He couldn't say he didn't qualify, that didn't add up with his scholarship. He could say it clashed with his track meet, but then he'd demand to see his schedule.

 _God_ , this was too much. _He_ was too much. All this because of _Peter Parker_! Caelum wanted to throw something. He wanted to _hit_ something.

Caelum ran his hands down his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. He needed to get home. It was rush hour, more people would be on the subway.

He took a stop by his locker before he went home, grabbing a few textbooks he would need for his homework. He stopped however, when he heard someone tap on the metal door, trying to get his attention.

Caelum sighed, closing the door to look at them. Peter was watching Caelum and he wanted to turn away at the intensity of the gaze. “What do you _want_ , Parker?” Caelum demanded, grabbing his backpack that laid at his feet, bending down to stuff his books inside.

“I want to talk.”

“You always seem to want to do that,” Caelum replied sharply. “What happened? Did you get a new vocabulary and wanted to break it in?”

Peter huffed, ignoring the jab. “I thought we decided to. . . stay away from each other.”

“Yes, that was the plan,” Caelum said, yanking his bag up and slinging it on his shoulders. “I'm so glad you were listening, it warms my heart.”

“ _Cael_ ―”

“I actually don't remember us ever deciding that the,” he made finger quotes, “‘ _Plan_ ’, was ever put out of order.”

“We're going to have to talk _eventually_ ,” Peter insisted. “You're on the decathlon team now.”

“Don't _remind_ me,” Caelum muttered, pushing past him to leave. “If this was all―”

“If don't _like_ decath, then why did you join?” Peter asked, walking closely behind him.

“It wasn't my decision,” Caelum said bitterly. “Do you _really_ think I want to spend my time answering questions on the hundred different species of whales!?” Caelum froze, too much information, he didn't need to know that.

Caelum hurried on, trying to get to the bus, hoping he didn't miss it ― the next one didn't come for another ten minutes, and Caelum didn't know he could stand another thirty _seconds_ with Peter.

“ _Cael_ ,” Peter said, but Caelum wasn't listening. They got to the main entrance, and Caelum was about to walk out the door when someone else called his name.

“Mr. Forest,” Caelum froze, his hand hovering over the door’s handle. Peter turned, and blinked at the Principal who was approaching them.

“Principal Davis,” Peter said, and Caelum turned slowly, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.

“Do you mind if I see you in my office, Mr. Forest?” Caelum swallowed, a cold terror gripping him.

“I have to get home,” Caelum protested weakly. “My brothers. . . They'll need to be picked up soon.”

“It'll only be a minute, I promise,” Principal Davis gave him a wink and Caelum wanted to vomit all over his shoes.

Peter kept looking between the two, “I'd everything alright, Cael?” Peter asked. Caelum wanted to grab the boy's hand and run as fast as he could. He wanted to get as far away from this school as humanly possible.

Instead, he nodded stiffly. “Go home, Parker. It'll be getting dark soon.”

“I agree,” Principal Davis said. Peter sent the Caelum a curious look, but turned away and walked out of the school.

Principal Davis led Caelum to his office and sat him down. “Concerning your tuition. Mr. Forest,” Principal Davis began, but Caelum cut him off.

“I paid this morning! I gave it to Mrs. Keeley.”

Principal Davis was quick, and sharply hit Caelum across the face. Caelum’s face flew to the side, and he moaned, holding his cheek. His wedding ring hand dug into Caelum’s skin, making a sharp cut. “Do not speak out of turn, _boy_.” Principal Davis ordered. He grabbed Caelum by the tie of his uniform and it choked on his neck. Caelum gasped, trying to pull away, his hands trying to undo it, but it didn't loosen.

Principal Davis let him squirm a bit before he spoke. “Do you want to be kicked out of this school?” Caelum frantically shook his head. “Then do as I tell you.” He finally let go and Caelum gasped, frantically adjusting his tie. He hunched over to breathe, barely listening to the words the man spoke above him. “Your tuition was short by a twenty six dollars. And, according to Mr. Harrington, you will be joining the decathlon team, which has a hundred joining fee ― to pay for expenses such as study guides, flashcards, and other extremities. There will be events as well as other activities. Do you, Mr. Forest, have the money to pay for all this?”

Caelum stared at his shoes, his body trembling. “N. . . Not yet, sir, but I--I can find the money. If you. . . if you could just give me _time_ , I could. . .” his heart stuttered in his chest as Principal Davis stepped over and rubbed Caelum's shoulders. Caelum tried not to shiver at his touch. “Please, give me a chance. There are a few things I need to. . . to finalize, then everything will be in order.”

“Time isn't something you have, Mr. Forest,” Principal Davis said, almost pitingly. He leaned down in his ear, gently caressing his face. Caelum flinched, feeling his hot breath coming down his spine. “Not yet, at least.”

Caelum stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with the man. Not as he forced him to his knees and began to undo his clothes.

Slowly, Caelum closed his eyes. He vaguely wondered if all this was worth it. All the things he did, all the money he saved, all the work he put in, was it worth this? His father's approval and good graces? When was he supposed to draw the line? Was he even able to at all? Did he have that authority, or was it stripped from him the first day he walked through the office doors?

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum sat quiet at the dinner table. They were having steak and asparagus. Caelum ate the asparagus minding his own business.

“Did you join the decathlon yet?” His father asked.

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied. “It is interesting. The kids are smart. I had no problem joining. My GPA is within the criteria for being able to do it as well.”

“ _Good_!” His father beamed. “When is the first ‘ _event_ ’?”

"Not anytime soon,” Caelum replied. “ _January_. The national event begins in late May.” His father nodded again.

“Well I think that's absolutely wonderful,” his mother said. “It's good to be in a few extracurriculars. Does it interfere with your track schedule?”

“No, ma'am,” Caelum responded. “They're on alternating days, and my track team isn't competitive, there's not enough people.”

His father nodded reasonably, “Well, it _is_ a STEM school, I'm not surprised.”

Finally, the twins spoke up in unison. “What happened to your cheek?” Caelum was thrown off by the question. He forgot about the cut and wanted to forget about his encounter with Principal Davis as well.

His mother looked closely at him, “You are cut,” she confirmed. “And there's bruising around your neck ― what happened?”

Caelum tried not to panic, he touched his checkered the blood had dried. “I must've worn my tie too tight today,” he said, praying that she would buy it. “I didn't realize I was indecent. May I be excused?”

His mother gave him a curious look, “Yes.”

Caelum stood, picking up his empty plate. “I also have homework to do. I'll be in my room for the rest of the night.” He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher.

He was just about to leave the room when his father spoke again. “I need you to clear your schedule this Friday afternoon. You and I will be going out.”

Caelum turned to the man. Friday's he had work, and he needed as many hours as he could if he wanted to earn that one hundred, twenty-six dollars. Even thinking about it gave him anxiety.

But, he knew he couldn't use either of those reasons against his father. He already told them practices were in Tuesday's and Thursday's. He couldn't change that either. He couldn't say he had track ― he told them it wasn't competitive so they would believe that practices weren't mandatory.

He'd have to go, there was no other option.

“Yes, sir,” he said and turned to go back into his room.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum was up late again and again he heard the knock on his window. Caelum was stressing over money, he didn't have time to talk to Peter.

The knock came again, louder this time. Caelum inhaled, if he knocked and his parents heard he'd be in trouble.

Caelum begrudgingly went to the window and cracked it again. “What the _hell_ do you want, Parker?!” Caelum snapped and Peter was taken aback for a moment.

Caelum couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice. In the past twenty-four hours, he slept thirty minutes and ate a bit of vegetables and a few asparagus. He was hungry, he was tired, and he had work he needed to complete.

“I want to talk.” Caelum was going to murder this kid.

“Why is it that you never seem to be able to talk at _normal times_?!” Caelum hissed.

“What happened to your cheek?” Caelum froze, and immediately wanted to close the window and hide, but knew that was a bit too conspicuous.

“It's none of your business,” Caelum snapped, but his vigor was gone.

Peter noticed and grinned, “You need a break. You're too crabby. C'mon,” he waved his hand. Caelum frowned and rolled his eyes, sighing. He grabbed his blanket, his jacket, and his slippers. He put the clothes on and climbed out of the window with Peter Parker in front of him, smiling serenely.

Caelum closed his window and walked down to Peter's level. He wrapped himself in the blanket and leaned against the railing. This time, he positioned himself in the light of the city, that way he wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid again.

This however, had the opposite effect. The moon was particularly keen on being bright and was reflected in Peter's eyes. Also, the city lights caused somewhat of a halo effect around the boy, giving him the look of an angel.

God, it was no use. Peter was _actually_ perfect.

“What do you want?” Caelum asked, cleaning his nails, finding anything else to do but look at the boy.

“Are you going to the field trip?” Peter asked suddenly, and Caelum rose an eyebrow.

“ _What_ field trip?”

“The one in science, _remember_? It's next week.” Caelum suddenly did remember. He paid for it last month. He didn't want to go, but the influence for Oscorp Industries was evident and he would like a few connections there after school ended.

“Oh,” Caelum nodded. “What about it?”

“I was just wondering,” Peter replied and Caelum wanted to scoff in his face and go back to his room.

He didn't. He stayed where he was.

“Cael, are you okay?” Caelum blinked, confused by the question.

“I don't understand,” he replied.

“Are you okay? You know. . . are you _feeling_ okay?”

“Why wouldn't I feel well? I am not sick,” he frowned for a minute. “Are you implying that I look ill?”

“I, no.” Peter said. “I mean. . . you've been acting weird lately―”

“How are you going to judge how I've been acting ‘ _lately_ '?” Caelum scoffed. “The past week has been the most contact either of us has shared since fifth grade.”

“I can tell,” Peter replied earnestly.

“You don't _know_ me,” Caelum stated coldly. “I want _nothing_ to do with you, remember? What ever happened to ‘ _stay away from me_ ’? Did that message not come across to you? Why don't you leave me _be_?”

“I already told you,” Peter said. “I want to be your friend.”

Caelum wanted to call _bullshit_ , but he didn't feel like arguing. “I'm going back to bed.” He announced, getting up, but Peter stopped him.

“ _Wait_!” He said, and Caelum rose an eyebrow. “I. . . I don't know how else to ask this. . .”

“Then don't.”

“What is going on between you and Principal Davis?” Caelum jerked his body away from him, stumbling into the side of the rail. Peter watched him and continued talking. “You two. . . he asked you to stay longer after we went to the meeting and he stopped you when we were trying to leave. Is something wrong? Are you in _trouble_?”

Caelum felt like he was going to be sick. He held it in, looking away. He tried to think of an answer, and said the first thing that came to mind. “He and I were discussing the scholarship,” Caelum said quickly. That made sense.

Peter nodded, “Are you going to be able go stay at Midtown?”

Caelum gave a brisk nod. “I will. If you stop calling me outside at _unholy_ hours of the morning to talk,” Caelum shot and Peter gave a weak smile. “I’m going to bed. _Leave me alone_.” Peter took the memo and went to his own window while Caelum returned to his room, feeling as if he narrowly dodged a bullet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aong with still being sick and in the middle of a move, my cousin factory reset my phone so yay all my notes are bleeding gone ._. 
> 
> Like I can't be mad bc I love her but omg the frustratation is real...


	5. - 5 -

**chapter five:**

  
Caelum took extra hours at the shop. He would start working on weekends ― he could blame it on decathlon practice, now. The extra hours would help with these extra expenses and hopefully, help ease up on his stress. The long hours he spent doing manual labour usually helped. If Peter was able to tell something was wrong with him, he wondered who else could as well?

Caelum needed a break, but knew the dangers of doing so. He needed to work, at least until the winter break, which wasn’t for another six weeks. Then, he could take a breath before plunging back into school life and the extra expenses with the new semester.

Friday easily rolled around. Caelum arranged for someone to take his shift at work again ― he would owe Austin a few favours after all this. He hoped his ‘ _favours_ ’ weren’t anything like Principal Davis’ ― he enjoyed the presence of coworker.

Caelum mentally prepared himself for an afternoon with his father. For once, luck seemed to be on his side, because neither Principal Davis nor Peter approached him at all that day. He expected his father to pick him up after school.

What he didn’t expect was for Mrs. Keeley to approach him during lunch. “Caelum, your father is here for an early dismissal,” Caelum rose an eyebrow. He was finishing half of his homework ― he didn’t have the funds to pay for lunch meals. He either brought his own ― which was rarely because his supposed scholarship provided free lunch ― or didn’t eat all.

“Thank you, Mrs. Keeley,” Caelum replied, grabbing his things and following him out of the lunchroom. He noticed Peter watching him as he stood and left the room.

His father was in front of the office and grinned broadly at him as he walked down the hall. “Ready?” He asked, and Caelum pulled on his backpack.

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied, and the two began to leave.

Caelum and his father caught the train into Brooklyn. Caelum was curious as to where they were going, but didn’t say much. He finally had his answer when his father caught a taxi and gave the driver the address of the place where he worked.

Caelum rose an eyebrow, “We’re going to Kaxton Industries?” Caelum asked, a bit confused.

“Yes,” his father replied. “I want to give you a glimpse of what is very possible for you to have if you work hard.” Ah, so this had been a ‘ _legacy_ ’ kind of thing.

Caelum sat straight and waited for the car to pull up to the building’s entrance. Caelum and his father exited the taxi, after paying the man. Caelum followed his father as he walked up to the entrance of the building. He suspected that with his father’s obviously low ranking in the building, he wouldn’t be able to see much outside the lobby ― maybe the main floor, but nothing more than that, he was sure.

His father led him inside and passed a few security guards, flashing his badge at them for access. They didn’t pay any attention to Caelum, and he rose an eyebrow.

When they entered the floor, he noticed how particularly crowded it had been, and several people his age were standing around beside older, similar looking people. Was it a kind of unofficial ‘ _Take Your Kids to Work Day_ ’?

Caelum’s father pressed ever forward until they were unable to move anymore. He looked around irritated. Caelum noticed that of his father ― he always thought of himself better than any other person around him. He had his own ‘ _air of importance_ ’ and wanted things to go his way or no way at all.

“ _Justice_!” A voice called over the voices of the heavy crowd. Both Caelum and his father turned to see a younger asian man grinning at him, and beside him was a younger boy who looked exactly like the man. “It’s good to see you! This must be Algol?” Caelum winced at the name, but put out his name for the man to shake.

“ _Caelum_ ,” he corrected politely, but the man didn’t seem to notice.

“Your father has told me much about you! Fixing on being valedictorian at Midtown High, eh?” He chuckled, giving a firm pat on his hand with his free hand. “Calvin Lee, at your service, and this is Avery.” He motioned to who had to be his son, who moved behind his father, obviously shy and reluctant.

Caelum didn’t quite know about being valedictorian, but he didn’t want to disappoint his father. “Yes, sir,” he replied, and Calvin grinned.

“When do you think it’ll be starting, Calvin?” His father asked, and Caelum kept listening, but still looked around, examining the hall.

“In a few, I hope. I know they’re fixing up the last few parts on the exhibition hall,” Calvin nudged Caelum’s arm, and he turned his attention back. “We’ll be the first to see it, you know.”

“First to see what, if you don’t mind my asking?” Caelum asked, watching the two men curiously.

Calvin turned to his father, a little surprised, “You didn’t tell him?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Justice replied. “Go on, you can say.”

“Well, we’ve been working on a project, something to bring more eyes to the company,” Calvin explained. “Something for families and bring more attention to us.” Caelum nodded, interesting.

Then, he heard a noise go over the group, before someone started to speak. “ _Good afternoon family and friends_ ,” an unfamiliar yet exuberant voice greeted from above.

Caelum turned to the top of a staircase, where a man was standing very neat black suit with a cane in his right hand. He looked old, maybe in his late sixties, and behind him was a man, much younger and dressed in clean suit navy blue suit and a interesting hat on is head, which could’ve been a fedora, but Caelum wasn’t quite sure.

“ _Thank you for joining us on this momentous occasion_ ," he said. " _For your hard work, you have been granted with the opportunity to see the grand-opening of the new addition to_ _Kaxton_ _Industries_!” A round of clapping thundered around Caelum and he lightly joined as to not be the odd man out.

“ _This is all because of our collective hard work_ ,” the man continued. “ _We would like to thank our sponsors who have helped us create this, including Falk Corporations, Rand, and_ _Oscorp_ _Industries, along with the collective help of all of you_.” Another round of applause, and Caelum again joined, still eager to see what exactly he was going to see the ‘ _grand opening_ ’ of. “ _And, without further ado, I, Alexander_ _Kaxton_ _, would like to introduce the opening of the_ _Kaxton_ _Industries Scientific Outreach Division_!”

A set of double doors opened and Caelum turned, along with everyone else. He was greeted with bright lights and music all around. White and blue confetti began to fall from the ceiling somewhere, and music began to sound through loudspeakers.

The rush of the crowd pushed Caelum forward, forcing him to move. He walked forward as people began to chatter excitedly, eager to see the new exhibit.

Caelum was greeted by bright lights and large tubes. Children darted from side to side, laughing and talking loudly. Around them, were different tubes of what looked like experiments recreated for display in the cases.

Most were minerals, showing different rocks under certain chemicals that people like his father developed. Some were exhibits or live feeds of animals in a substance that was certainly not water, but wasn’t exactly decaying their bodies. By the pictures, it looked like an alternative to. . . water? Caelum knew, from prior research, that Kaxton Industries ― along with several others ― were trying to recreate the material of Captain America’s shield. Had Kaxton Industries done it? What was the faux- _water_ for?

Caelum was interested, wanting to look at the displays, taking in all the information, but his father had other ideas. He pulled Caelum away, down a hallway that branched off. Caelum obeyed following his father closely. He was stopped by two burly looking men. “This area is restricted,” they explained gruffly, their voices cold and stern. This, obviously, wasn’t exactly their first rodeo.

His father flashed his badge, but they still didn't move. “I have access to this area,” he said.

“This area is off-limits for today,” they replied, as if one.

His father looked annoyed, “This is _ridiculous_!” He snapped. Caelum felt a bit of embarrassment twist inside him. He didn’t have time for this ― if his father invited him to explore the new exhibit, then shouldn’t they do just that?

“Sir―”

“Now you know,” his father pointed a finger in their faces. Caelum cringed, of course his father would do this, of all days. He turned around, looking at the other exhibits while his father talked. The crowd had begun to thin as they walked through the building.

Caelum watched the left over children and adults running around, laughing their grubby fingers touching the rather delicate displays of different chemicals on minerals and animals. They were loud ― it was quite invigorating. Caelum wanted more than anything to get this over with and not stand beside his father as he argued over petty, simple matters because he thought himself better than most ― if not all.

Caelum heard a familiar voice, “Avery? _Avery_!” It was Calvin from earlier. Had Avery gotten separated? It wouldn’t be a surprise in this kind of crowd.

Caelum instinctively began to scan the crowd, looking for the supposed lost boy. After a bit of searching he found the boy, staring up at display that was a fish swimming in a unfamiliar substance of many colours. Caelum couldn’t help but watch it as well. He saw, on the screen below a person holding a rock, and the fish, after being subjected to the substance, began to follow it mindlessly. They tried the same with a rodent, and the same result happened. Caelum watched, intrigued by the artificial mind control.

“I’ll tell Mr. Kaxton _himself_ of this!” His father snapped at the men, still racing for no apparent reason.

Caelum rolled his eyes, and noticed a group of boys running down the path, straight for Avery, still entranced by the shiny substance.

It was as if Caelum predicted the events before they came to fruition. Caelum ran quickly, pushing Avery out of the path while the one of the boys, laughing and talking loudly to his friend, ran face first into the display.

The display moved, crashing down loudly over Caelum before he could get up. The chemical doused his head, dripping down the sides of his face. It was heavy and cold, like someone froze whipped cream and spilled it over his head. It smelt like burned metal.

Caelum kept his eyes shut, and mouth closed, but he felt his eyes sting, a bit of it already getting in them. His body burned and his back and neck stung. He heard shouting and the cries of men and women around him.

It felt like hours and he felt the chemical begin to burn, as if someone was pouring acid into his skin. He writhed, his mouth opening, but his clamped his hands over it, an unyielding cry escaping. His body began to shake, and he vaguely heard shouting over all the chaos.

He turned, his back arching, the bare skin slicing on glass. He looked to the ground beside him, his eyes growing in and out of focus. The last thing he saw was the fish in the tank flopping aimlessly before going still, and Caelum mimicked it, his eyes closing.


	6. - 6 -

**chapter six:**

  
Caelum's entire body felt heavy and sore. He felt as if he were sitting underneath the sun for days and nobody had bothered to check on him. He let out a low moan, his eyes rolling aimlessly behind their lids. He heard muffled talking around him, but his ears felt clogged, like they do after going for a swim. He distinctly heard someone say, “ _waking up_!” as his eyes began to open slowly.

The room was bright and he squinted waiting for his eyes to adjust. He recognized the look of the hospital room near immediately. It was early, he could tell, the sunlight’s rays had pieced through the curtains on the window. How much would this cost him, he wondered? He couldn’t possibly afford a hospital bill.

Someone was talking, he wasn’t listening, he didn’t have time to listen. “ _Algol_? Are you listening to me?” Caelum turned to look at the speaker, it was his _father_.

He stiffened, and immediately pain spread through his body. His mother was sitting beside his father, a look of worry on her face. “Don’t yell at him,” she scolded, and looked at Caelum. “How do you feel?”

“. . . I will live,” he said after thinking for a moment, his throat was sore and a bit croaky. He was also tired. He wanted to sleep, but he had the distinct feeling he had been doing a lot of that lately. That was odd ― Caelum rarely _ever_ slept. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” his mother answered, sounding completely like the nurse she was. “We're trying to figure out what happened to you and if there will be any lasting effects.”

“And what exactly was that?”  Caelum asked, his head was pounding. He didn’t feel like talking, but there were things he knew he needed answering. What had happened to him? They were at the grand opening. . . his father was causing a scene. . . and there was a boy, a little boy.

“You saved Calvin’s son,” his father explained. “Calvin Lee, remember? Somebody’s kid came trampling through and you pushed him out of the way. The exhibit hit you instead of him. It wasn’t supposed to fall off the podium like that, but the screws hadn’t been on right. Kaxton offered to pay the medical bills and gave some money for your college to keep us from suing them.”

Caelum let out a sigh of relief, relaxing on the bed. He wouldn’t have to pay hospital bills, he wouldn’t be late on a payment. “How long have I been asleep?” He asked.

“About a week,” his mother answered. “But it’ll be a lot more while they keep you undersupervison to make sure there were no―”

“I can’t stay here!” Caelum suddenly said. “No, I–I have to go back to school!” He couldn’t believe his ears. A week ― a whole _week_! All the hours he could’ve spent at the shop wasted while he laid sleeping in a bed.

This completely threw off his budget. He still owed that 126 dollars, he would have a tone of work to finish as well. Caelum felt like he was going to be sick. He was going to be sick. He turned away, bile rising in his throat, and vomited on the ground. He heaved, tears coming to his eyes. His mother stood, and pressed a button on the remote. Then, she went to the side of the room, grabbing a strange green bag with a rubber, curved rim.

She gave it to Caelum and he vomited again, it filled the bag, and then snapped off, somehow tying itself. She took it with a gloved hand and handed him another, but he didn’t need it. Everything that might have been left in his system was gone, and he felt starved.

The door opened and a nurse along with a few doctors entered the room. One had began to ask questions, but Caelum could hardly focus. He was so _tired_. Someone was touching his arm and his chest, shining a light down his throat and in his eyes they closed again.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum woke back up hours later ― he knew because the light streaming through the window was softer now, not bright like it usually was early in the morning. His mother was gone, but his father stayed beside the bed, his arms cross and head lolling back. Caelum grunted, raising a hand tangled in wires to his face and rubbed at the sleep in his eyes.

He heard the door open, and turned. A young woman stepped through the threshold, holding a clipboard. She rose an eyebrow, noticing that he was awake. “Hello, Mr. Forest.” Caelum tried to sit up, but the room seemed to spin and he had to lay back down again. He muttered a swear, rubbing his skull. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“ _Water_ ,” he croaked, and that was enough for her. She picked up a bottle of water from a nightstand and handed it to him. Caelum _resented_ water bottles, but took it anyway, his dehydrated throat overtaking his displeasure.

The woman had opened it for him, and he twisted it easily, pouring it into his mouth. It spilt over the sides of his mouth and he had a hard time swallowing, but managed to do so anyway.

Caelum finally looked back at the woman, clearing his throat, “Thank you.” He felt a tingling in the back of his spine, and he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is everything alright?” She asked and he gave a small nod, looking back at her.

“Yes, everything is―” He looked in her eyes and the tingling sensation pricked on the back of his neck. He winced, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them back up, he felt disorientated, like the room had tilted on a axis.

Caelum felt short, and. . . _weird_. Also, his teeth, for some reason, tasted different ― tasted _wrong_. He looked at his hands, his crisp, brown skin was now tanned white. And his nails were _painted_. In his left hand, was a pen, his right a clipboard. Caelum _wasn’t_ left-handed.

He stared forward, seeing the familiar brown-skinned boy tied to wires, his hazel eyes dazed, staring into nothing. He was so confused. He turned quickly to the heart rate monitor on the side of the boy’s bed. He saw strands of blonde hair twist over his face as he rushed over ― _blonde hair!_ Caelum wasn’t _blonde_!

He stared at the reflection. Blue eyes, a flushed, heart-shaped face, stared back at him. Caelum was confused ― and scared, _very_ scared.

And all the while the back of his neck prickled and burned.

“What the. . . what the _hell_!?” He screeched, moving back. Even his voice was wrong, high pitched and feminine. He _wasn’t_ feminine! He _wasn’t_ blonde! What the _hell_ was going on!?

Caelum looked back at the boy in the bed. Was that him? That looked a lot like him! How?! How was this possible!?

Caelum suddenly the pain in the back of his neck was burning ― _paralyzing_. He stared at the dazed, brown eyes, and squeezed his eyes closed, rubbing the back of his neck.

When he opened them again, he saw a mass of blonde and pale skin falling to the ground with a heavy thud. This woke his father and he shot up, dazed, and still half-asleep. “Wha―? What’s going on?”

Caelum stared at the woman on the ground, who was moaning now, but coming to. His father stepped over to her, “What the _hell_? Is she alright? What happened?” Caelum didn’t answer, he didn’t respond. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t trust himself to. He stared at his hands, crisp brown. No blonde hair or blue eyes or pale skin or painted nails. _Crisp brown_.

Caelum’s heart was racing, what was that, then? How could he see through that woman’s eyes? How could he feel what that woman felt?

What was happening to him?

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum sat in his bed, staring at the ceiling of the hospital room. He had a few visitors so far. The little boy, Avery and his father, Principal Davis, a few of his teachers, including Mr. Harrington, and his brothers, after they finished their school day. Nobody else had came, and Caelum didn’t want them to. Whenever he looked in any of their eyes, he felt that tingling sensation, and a few times, he had the same ‘ _out-of-body_ ’ experience. He couldn’t explain it, but he had gathered research so far.

The tingling only happened when he looked in their eyes. If he had the out-of-body experience, it was almost like a timer. If his neck started to burn, his time had ran up. If he ‘ _went back_ ’ soon enough, the victim only stumbled, a bit confused, but continued on their way. They didn’t retain any of the memories when in their bodies, when he moved or spoke.

It was. . . _strange_. It was odd. It was as if he was _possessing_ people, and that scared him more than anything.

Caelum turned in his bed, remembering his visit with Avery earlier. The boy had insisted on reading to him his favourite book ― _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone._ Caelum hardly listened, but he was amused when Avery began to start doing the different voices, all of them exaggerated and silly. Caelum laughed, for the boy’s expense, of course. Avery had also made him a small band of string that he tied around his arm, saying it was a good luck bracelet.

Out of all the gifts given to Caelum, he valued Avery’s the most. He twisted it around his wrist, almost like a reminder that he was in the ‘ _right_ ’ body. Avery made him promise to never, _ever_ take it off, and Caelum agreed.

He heard a knock at the door, and he frowned. Visiting hours were long over. How. . . _who_ could be at his door?

“Come in,” he called hesitantly. The door opened, and Caelum stared, shocked as Peter stepped through the doorway, a lopsided smile on his face. In his hand, was the strap to his backpack, which looked heavy, the coarse fabric stretching to fit whatever was inside.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Can we talk?”

“How. . . are you even _here_?” Caelum asked, shocked. Peter took this as a welcome and closed the door.

“Security’s a bit looser at night,” Peter admitted cheekily. “Anyways, I wanted to see what happened to you ― I heard you were hurt.” Caelum forced himself to look away, he didn't quite know what to do, now. If he looked in the boy's eyes Caelum would be putting him in danger, and he didn't exactly know the details of this newfound ability. He knew what happened to Enhanced individuals from what he saw on the news and other media outlets.

But, this ability suddenly felt like a new layer of absolute torture. Not to look in Peter's eyes, his beautiful brown eyes that made him forget all previous thoughts and actions.

This wasn't fair ― this isn't _right_. Caelum hated this stupid thing that suddenly defined him as a freak.

He kept his eyes on the bed as he spoke. “Take a seat,” he told the boy and Peter did. He sat in the chair closest to Caelum, then pulled it up so he could be right by him. “What do you want, Parker?”

“Well, I heard you got sick.” Caelum scoffed, sick was an _understatement_. “So, I thought I'd bring you something. But then I. . . I didn't know what. I mean, you are _really_ hard to shop for and I don't have any _money_ , so―”

“Get on with it,” Caelum huffed. The faster he finished, the quicker Caelum wouldn't be tempted to look at him.

Peter heaved his backpack on the bed. He opened it revealing several school textbooks and a folder. Caelum stared, confused. “It's all the work you missed,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I know how much of an effort you put into keeping your grades high, so I asked all of your teachers if they could give me the work you would be late on. Most of them even gave me copies of their notes for the class." Peter nudged him in a teasing fashion. "How come you're nicer to teachers than you are with me?”

Caelum swallowed, feeling as if a mountain had lifted off his back. Peter didn't understand just how much this meant to him. He didn't understand what this could do for Caelum.

But, Caelum wasn't like that, teary-eyed and soft. He grabbed the bag from Peter, “Thank you, Parker,” he said with a business tone. “I appreciate it.”

Peter huffed, “You didn't answer my question.”

Caelum rolled his eyes, “I treat teachers better than you because they are detrimental to my future. You, Parker, _aren't_. And don't kid yourself into thinking otherwise.”

Caelum hoped the last comment would get him off his back, but instead Peter nudged him again. “I'll take the books back, if that's how you feel,” he teased, and Caelum's grip tightened involuntarily. Peter didn't notice, “So, what happened? You're all over the news, you know. There's a video going around, you pushing a kid out of the way before someone knocked down a tank. Did you really do that?”

“I wouldn't be here if I didn't,” Caelum begrudgingly replied.

“Are you still going to be on the decathlon team?” Peter asked, and Caelum pursed his lips. Knowing his father, he would want him to pursue all academic opportunities, even if he had been recently hospitalized. He'd have no choice in the matter. If he tried to quit, his father would call him out. If he did so and didn't tell him, it would bring heavy consequences in the future. The best road of action would be to stay, despite everything.

“I'm staying.” Caelum said, and Peter grinned brightly. Caelum looked at it, he couldn't help himself. Peter’s smile could light up a room.

Peter's eyes reflected the streams of moonlight coming through the window. A part of his face alight, casting shadows over his cheekbones and under his eyes. Caelum suddenly realized how dark it had been. He realized how close they were.

Caelum moved away at the same time Peter did, he scratched his arm, frowning. Caelum felt the tingling on his neck, but didn't move. “ _Weird_. . .” he murmured, but smiled at Caelum anyway. “I'd. . . better be going. If Aunt May knew I was out this late, she'd have a fit.” He rubbed the support bar on Caelum bed, smiling, once again, at Caelum. “Good night,” he said, and moved to leave.

But stopped when his hand wouldn't move at all. Both Caelum and Peter stared at his hand, which was stuck to the plastic bar. Caelum rose an eyebrow and Peter sighed a little. “This has been happening all _day_!” He grumbled to himself, slowly prying his hand off. “My hands are sticky, for some reason. I keep washing them, but it keeps happening.” Caelum shook his head, hiding his amusement. Peter waved him goodbye before leaving him alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I prewrite my chapters to stock up, I actually have 30 chapters mapped out. If I keep updating once a week, you guys would get to chapter 30 in like December. 
> 
> So... Should I change it to twice a week? D'ya think it'll help? I think so, but I dunno, just a thought...


	7. - 7 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: rape

**chapter seven:**

  
Caelum managed to convince his mother to let him go back home. Two weeks passed with nothing happening except Caelum slowly losing his mind. He reasoned, with her being a doctor, she’d be able to take care of him, and if nothing happened now, when would something happen? Caelum refused to live the rest of his life in a hospital bed, not after all the work he had done.

His mother was stubborn, bringing up every excuse to keep him there. Caelum appreciated it, he knew he wanted her there because she cared for him, but he couldn’t stay another minute in a bed.

Eventually, she gave in, however it just so happened to be the same week as Thanksgiving, so it didn’t do much for Caelum’s sake. He returned to school that monday only for them to have snow on tuesday, so the school closed.

Caelum spent the holidays tucked in his room. He hardly went out, if only eat and remind his family he was still alive. Usually, his family went upstate to visit relatives and spend thanksgiving with his father’s sister, but his mother refused to go anywhere, not with Caelum’s condition still being under close examination. Caelum insisted on them going, he didn’t want his parents to be held back on his behalf. Eventually, his father took the twins upstate and his mother stayed home with him. It appeased both parties, and Caelum didn’t mind.

He had a few projects to finish and a lot of classwork to do. He was absolutely swamped, so his mother still had to go to work, but she made Caelum promise that if something happened, she’d call emergency services, and then her. He, of course, did before resuming his work. He had assumed it would be a quiet break, he deserved at least that for all that he’s been through lately.

Then, there was a knock at his window. Caelum resisted the urge to throw something at it too. He didn’t have time to talk to Peter and it was too cold to sit outside. He had work to do and Peter needed to get a life!

“Cael? I can see you in there!” Peter’s voice called, “It’s cold! C’mon!”

“Go away!” Caelum snapped, able to be loud since his mother and the rest of his family were away.

“I think it’s about to snow again!”

“Not my problem, Parker!”

“Cael!”

Caelum let out a long, annoyed groan. He was so sick of this. He didn’t want to play Peter’s game, but he found himself opening the window anyway, letting the boy slip inside easily.

Caelum hadn’t seen Peter for at least a week, maybe two, but as he now stared at him, his brow furrowed. Peter had gotten. . . muscular. He could see it under his clothes. It stretched around the biceps and upper abdomen.

This Peter was different, was evolved, but only in slight ways that you had to be sharp to notice. He walked a bit smoother, and had grown a few inches ― he used to be at least 5’5” but now they were nearly eye-to-eye. This was weird ― this was wrong. This was too much for Caelum. The scrawny Peter was fine, was resistable. But this. . . this made his stomach twist and certain parts of his body come alive when he neither wanted nor needed them to.

“Cael? Are you okay?” God, even his prepubescent voice had dropped an octave or two.

Caelum turned away, the back of his neck tingling. He didn’t want to possess Peter ― but he vaguely wondered how that may feel. He stepped around him, in their small space, and closed the window that let in a cold chill. “What do you want this time?” He forced himself to grumble. A few snowflakes, Caelum noticed, were still on his shirt, melting quickly. He also saw a few in his hair and stuck persistently to his eyebrow.

“Did you finish the English project yet?” Peter asked, moving to sit on his bed, bouncing a bit on his mattress before settling.

“Yes, a few days ago ― why? What do you want?”

“To talk,” Peter replied simply. “It’s Thanksgiving break ― shouldn’t you be with, I dunno, your family?”

“They’re gone,” Caelum replied. “Left me here in case something happened. My mom’s at work, my dad went upstate. They’ll bring me a plate and send my best wishes.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with your family?”

“Are you just going to sit here and question how I spend my time?” Caelum scoffed, crossing his arms. “Take your shoes off ― you’re tracking snow around.”

Peter did as he was told and rubbed his hands together. Caelum went back to his desk to finish work, exhaling as he sat and finishing more schoolwork. Peter was quiet for a while, but Caelum felt his gaze on the back of his neck, burning with questions Caelum didn’t want to answer.

Peter flopped on his bed, letting out a moan. Caelum rolled his eyes, but didn’t pay him any mind. Finally, he stood and walked over to Caelum closet, which was simply a few extra uniforms and other clothes he wore on the daily. There were also a few suits in there, but Caelum only wore the for special occasions. “‘ _Goldman’s Auto Repair_ ’?” He read aloud, and Caelum shot out of his seat.

“Don’t touch that!” He snapped, and Peter dropped the shirt immediately, Caelum realized his mistake, Peter would know it’s important. Peter would ask questions. He thought that his parents paid the other part of his scholarship. He already suspected something with Principal Davis. He might put two and two together.

His mind scrambled for an excuse. “It’s. . . my grandfather’s,” he finally said. “That was his shirt for his shop.” Peter nodded, taking the lie easily, and Caelum turned back to go sit down. Has Caelum ever let anyone in his room before? There were so many secrets he didn’t need sharing. So many things that were detrimental to his education and his life.

“Caelum,” Peter said, again with his serious voice. Caelum turned, going back to his desk. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I can’t exactly stop the words from coming out of your mouth, Parker,” Caelum said, but then realised that he actually could, if he wanted to. He didn’t but the possibility was still there.

“Let’s say you had superpowers,” Peter said suddenly, and Caelum frowned. “You know, like Captain America or Iron Man.”

“Neither of those men have superpowers,” Caelum said, “Not technically.”

“Captain America―”

“Was injected with the super serum,” Caelum finished. “That was pretty much steroids. Iron Man is just rich and built a suit.”

“He’s smart too!”

“But that’s not a superpower,” Caelum said, and Peter huffed.

“Well, then, Thor or the Hulk,” Peter amended.

“You mean Doctor Bruce Banner,” Caelum corrected. “That’s like saying Frankenstein and the doctor.”

“You know what I mean,” Peter said, suddenly irritated, which seemed five times more prominent on his new muscular body. Again Caelum felt that tingly feeling, and closed his mouth. “If you had superpowers, what would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

Peter shrugged. “What would you do? Would you be a hero, would you lay low? Would you join SHIELD, or the military?”

“What kind of superpowers?” Caelum asked.

“I dunno,” Peter gesticulated, annoyed. “Super. . . _strength_! And, flying.”

“So, Superman, then?”

“Yes, but actually real,” Peter insisted. Caelum scoffed.

“If it were me, I’d stay low,” Caelum said. “And I wouldn't destroy entire cities.” Peter rolled his eyes, and Caelum frowned, leaning back in his seat. “Powers like the one you described are. . . dangerous. If you try to do good, someone, somewhere, will try to thwart you. With great power like that, comes great responsibility. If you're not ready for that kind of responsibility, then don't put yourself out there.”

Peter was silent and Caelum turned his way. The sunlight through the window gave him an two o’clock shadow. He was deep in thought from Caelum's words, and he couldn't help staring at his body. He bit the inside of his lip, forcing himself to turn away. “ _Okay_.” Peter finally said, and Caelum gave a turse nod.

“If that's all you want, I'm going to finish my work,” he said, and moved back to his table. “You're welcome to go back home.” Peter huffed, shaking his head, but he heard his bedsprings move and Peter’s light footsteps on the ground.

Peter grabbed his shoes and coat, but stalled for a moment. Then, he came over to Caelum, leaning on one of his textbooks so Caelum would have no choice but to see him.

They were close again, Caelum swallowed, keeping his eyes directed to the paper. He could smell him ― he smelt like mint and shea butter. “Happy Thanksgiving, Cael,” he said, and Caelum couldn't help looking at him. That starry smile that made his world a bit brighter. Those beautiful brown eyes that twinkled when it caught the sunlight. His faded freckles ― _god_ , Caelum wanted to kiss each and every one of them.

Caelum felt the back of his neck tingle, and he didn't want to look away. He wanted to savour this moment forever.

Peter was the first to move. He stood and began to rub his arm. His smile turned into a frown, and he began to look around, confused. “What's the matter?” Caelum asked, he couldn't help sounding concerned.

“. . . Nothing,” he said, and nudged Caelum's arm. “Don't worry about it. See ya, Cael!” Then he opened the window, and left.

° · ° · ° · ° 

  
Caelum managed to finish all his work before he returned to school. It was a hassle, to carry all of his school books back from his house to his locker, but he managed.

He walked through the front doors with all the other students. Most of them branched off to the cafeteria if they had money for breakfast ― of course, Caelum didn't.

Caelum went straight for his locker, and began to unload the books he didn't need for class. He also took off his heavy winter supplies that kept him from getting hypothermia.

When Caelum closed his locker, he jumped back a few steps. Behind the door, was Principal Davis. He was eying Caelum, almost greedily. “I am glad you are back, after your accident, Mr. Forest.”

Caelum was silent for a few moments, “Tha. . . thank you. . . sir.”

“I would like you to follow me,” He said, but Caelum knew it was an order. “We need to discuss your financials.” Caelum closed his eyes, his heart pounding. He didn't want to do this. He was tired, and this was. . . it was too much.

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied.

Principal Davis turned and began to walk away, Caelum followed, his heart racing, but keeping his head down. They walked to the door across the hall that was also a shortcut to the office.

“Caelum!” Someone shouted before could enter, and he looked up, confused. Then, he realized. Of course.

Peter was on the other side of the room, watching him and Principal Davis. Confused and concerned.

“Let's go,” Principal Davis snapped, and Caelum turned away, following him.

Caelum stepped into Principal Davis’ office and hesitantly locked the door. As soon as it clicked, Principal Davis’ hand was around his throat. Caelum gasped, trying to move, trying to get him off, but his strength was solid. He pushed Caelum into a chair, and his side banged against the wooden armrest. He hissed, moving his arm to his side.

“We need to talk about your finances, Me. Forest,” Principal Davis said again. He sounded calm, but his actions were coarse, upset. He began to undo his belt, and Caelum found himself shaking his head, moving away. “Do you have the money for me?” Caelum tried to keep his composure, but his words were choking in his mouth.

Principal Davis didn't like this, not at all. He used his belt and tied it around Caelum's throat.

He gasped, “Please,” he breathed, tears growing in his eyes. Oh god, he thought frantically. He was going to die. He was going to to die with Principal Davis' belt around his throat. He was going to kill him. Oh god, oh _god_! “ _Please_. . .!”

“I'll ask one more time,” Principal Davis said, and Caelum caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. He tightened the belt so Caelum’s fingers would do no good against it. “Do you _have it_?”

“ _No_ ,” his voice was no more than a whisper. The room was fading out of sight ― out of existence. “Don't. . . _couldn't_. . .!”

Principal Davis dragged Caelum to the ground, and then released the belt. Caelum loosened it with shaking fingers and breathed raggedly. “Well, then, you know what that means, Mr. Forest.” He heard his pants fall. Caelum felt like he was going to be sick. “You'll need an extension.”

“. . . _Please_ ,” Caelum begged. He couldn't do this anymore. “Can you. . . please, don't. . .” Principal Davis grabbed Caelum chin, forcing him to look at him, right in his eyes.

Caelum felt his neck tingle, and he made a face, darting his eyes slightly away, his nose, or his forehead. He shoved it in Caelum's mouth, forcing his jaw all the way open. Caelum gagged, and bile rose in his throat. He felt for something to grab onto, to pull away.

Tears came out the corners of Caelum's eyes, tracing down his face. Up and down, in and out, again and again. He prayed for him to finish quickly, to be some with and let him go. Caelum vomited a little, and it spilled over the sides. Suddenly, he felt something hot jet down his throat and he gagged, choking.

Principal Davis pulled away and Caelum laid on the ground, heaving and vomiting. He never went that far before. Oh god, oh _god_.

Principal Davis kicked him a trash bin, and Caelum took it, vomit spewing past his lips. He let out a choked sob, he _never_ went that far before.

“Quiet down,” Principal Davis snapped, kicking him in his sore side. Caelum nearly collapsed. His hand going to the ground and holding him steady. He lurched and vomited again. He wanted it all out. He wanted it gone. “You have two weeks,” Principal Davis said. Caelum gave a shaky nod, wiping his face.

“Th. . .” he gave a shuddering breath. “Thank you. . . sir.” He saw Principal Davis smile and step over, he gave Caelum shoulder a rub. Caelum flinched away, and then vomited again. His throat burned and his stomach twisted.

“We need more good kids like you, Mr. Forest,” Principal Davis praised. “You're a valuable asset to this school.” Caelum didn't know what to say. He shuddered again, a bit of bile dripping his lip. Principal Davis noticed and went to his desk, grabbing a tissue box. He handed it to Caelum.

Caelum took it silently, cleaning himself up to the best of his ability. Finally, he stood, his arms and legs shaking. “Have a good day, Mr. Forest.” Caelum nodded quietly, and turned away.

He opened the door and felt someone's eyes on him immediately. He looked up and saw Peter watching him, shocked and concerned.

Caelum quickly closed the door so that Principal Davis didn't see him. Then, he briskly turned, leaving the office the opposite way.

“Caelum!” He called, following him. Caelum broke into a run, skidding out of the office and going straight for his locker. He opened it with shaking hands, grabbing his stuff blindly. His coat, his scarf, his backpack. “Caelum, please,” Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. Caelum jumped, his eyes wide and frantic.

“Don't _fucking_ touch me!” He snapped, anger blazing in his eyes. His entire body was shaking. What did Peter hear? He couldn't possibly hear anything, his office was virtually soundproof.

Caelum put on his coat with shaking hands, wrapping his scarf around his neck, wincing when he pulled it too tight. “Caelum, what happened? What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” Caelum muttered angrily. “He did nothing.”

“You're _shaking_.”

“It’s _-5_ _degrees_ outside!” He snapped. “No _shit_!”

“ _Caelum_ ―”

“Leave me _alone_ , Parker,” Caelum said, his anger dying away ― but only a little. He couldn't stay here today. He needed to leave.

“I can call the police,” Peter suggested. “I can tell them that he's―”

Caelum yanked Peter by the collar, pushing him against the locker directly next to his. His eyes were narrowed, his anger sharp, “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone,” Caelum hissed. “I will make your life _hell_ , Parker.”

Peter stared at him, shocked. Caelum breathed heavily. Then, he grabbed his backpack, slipping it on, and zipping up his coat. He left Peter where he was and left the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this in another one of my stories dealing with such dark themes like rape, but whenever there is a graphic scene, I try to refer to genitalia as 'it'. 
> 
> If you skipped over the chapter here's the summary: 
> 
> Cael and Peter have a talk about what makes a hero a hero, and then he returns to school the next Monday. He is approached by Principal Davis and then takes out his anger on Peter. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope y'all like the Wednesday update — from now on, updates are Sundays and Wednesdays, usually at midnight est. if I don't fall asleep lol.
> 
> I'll see y'all next time, and remember...
> 
> Don't melt!  
> \- Happyritas 


	8. - 8 -

**chapter eight:**

  
Caelum walked for ages, not quite knowing where he was going. Everything around him blurred. The snow fell in his hair and the cold pricked at his fingers ― Caelum had forgotten his gloves. He had his scarf though, but it was loose around his neck.

He stopped at the corner of the street, waiting for the light to change for him to cross. His hands were shaking and he was breathing hard. He had to get away. He had to get far, _far_ away. He needed to sit and breathe. He needed. . . he needed―

He heard a loud honk, and he jumped, starting to walk forward. He looked up, and saw a car swerve has he crossed, Caelum didn't move, stunned as it came right for him.

Suddenly, he was yanked away, thrown like a ragdoll across the street. Caelum landed roughed on the sidewalk, his chin slamming against the cold concrete, his hands skinned on the ground.

Someone ran to his side, "Are--Are you okay!?" Caelum blinked, the cold bringing tears to his eyes, that didn't seem to help the sudden pain of being pulled to the ground. Was he pulled? Nobody was in front of him. . . how did he end up here and not in the middle of the street. "Are you okay!? Did that guy hit you?"

Caelum dazedly looked over. Then, he blinked once, and then twice. He tried to process exactly. . . what he was staring at. Someone in a red ski-mask leaned over him. They had on a peculiar red-and-blue jacket and black goggles over the eyes, making it completely impossible to see exactly who it was. "Your chin is bleeding. Do you need an ambulance?" Caelum moved away, if his mother knew he was almost involved in an accident. . . he'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm fine," Caelum said, gruffly. He looked down at his shirt. Dusted in snow, was a long, white. . . _web_? Was that an _actual_ _web_? Like from _spiders_? Who the hell was this guy? "Who are you?"

"I, uh. . ." The fact that his masked 'hero' didn't know his own name ― or at least, his alias ― didn't resonate well with Caelum.

"Is this _webbing_? _Spider webbing_?" Caelum continued, touching it tentatively, even though reason told him not to. "What the _hell_?"

"I'm, uh, Spider-Man," the masked idiot finally proclaimed.

"This is ridiculous," Caelum scoffed, and tried to stand. What was he doing? Right, getting as far away from Peter and his prying eyes as he possibly could ― well, at least until he had to go home.

Caelum managed to get to his feet, his knees were a bit banged up, both from his earlier endeavour and now, but he could walk. Caelum limped a bit, but tried to get away. He definitely wanted nothing to do with this guy ― whoever he was. "Aren't you going to say ' _thank you_ '?"

"For nearly killing me? No, I do not believe that warrants a ' _thank you'_."

"I saved your life!"

"And a warning would have sufficed," Caelum scoffed. "Leave me alone ― masked ' _heroes_ ' like you are what gets this city in trouble. And, you look silly, too."

Whoever was behind the mask definitely seemed offended by that, "That isn't fair," He protested.

"Neither is life, or the justice system, but look where we are!" Caelum threw his hands out, and then picked up his pace. "Leave me alone."

He sighed, as if disappointed, " _Fine_ ," he said. Caelum heard a strange ' _whish_ ' before seeing the same masked idiot flying away, using the sticky webbing as he went to propel himself.

Caelum could only stare, shocked. This city was getting weirder by the second. To hell with Midtown High, Caelum thought it was high time he, and his family, moved.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum spent the rest of the day at the shop. Mr. Goldson had seen what happened to him on the news, and was gracious. Caelum didn't get paid leave, but Mr. Goldson also didn't fire him, so there's that. Caelum worked all afternoon, at least until 8 PM, when he knew he had to get home ― the boys expected him there by at least 8:45 and he didn't exactly have the cash to pay them if he was late.

"I have to go now, Mr. Goldson," Caelum told the man, wiping down the greasy parts of the car and rubbing his forehead. It wasn't exactly hot in the auto shop, but it did get a bit stuffy after working under a car for hours. "I can check to see if it's still smoking, before I go."

"Nah, don't worry about that, boy," Mr. Goldson waved a hand. "Head on home. Your parents must be worried, 'pecially after the accident." Caelum blinked, his parents didn't seem all that concerned.

His mother was, he could tell, but she wasn't exactly worried. He had proven to show significant positive changes in his health, she personally believed that he was back to normal. Of course, she didn't know about the whole ' _possessing_ ' business, but she needn't worry herself with that. His father never showed signs of worrying, not even after the initial accident. He only concerned himself with hospital bill ― even though there were none ― and the money Kaxton industries gave them afterwards.

Sometimes, it seemed that money was all his father ever cared about.

Caelum gave Mr. Goldson a curt nod, "Thank you, sir. Have a good night, get home safe."

"Uh-huh," He said, waving an unconcerning hand. "Jus' get outta here."

Caelum's lip twitched at the man's familiar gruffness. He wouldn't be Mr. Goldson without it. He took his leave, heading home. It was still rush-hour, but Caelum managed to get there before 8:45. THe boys were at the table, playing with toys. They had left the television on. "Did you take the chicken out?"

"Yes," They replied, and Caelum confirmed this, seeing it on the counter in a metal bowl. He also saw the dishes stacked in the sink and a mess in the sitting room. He frowned, disapprovingly.

"Castor, you're on dishes, I want them all in the washer before mom and dad get back. Pollux, clean the sitting room ― and keep your toys in your _room_. Mom will throw a fit if she sees you two trailing a mess around the house." The boys sighed, but stood and began to do as Caelum told them. Pollux stopped, and looked at Caelum pointedly, " _What_?" He demanded, moving to take his shoes and coat off.

"What happened you chin?" He asked curiously.

Castor turned, and sniggered, "And your _neck_!"

"Did you get in a fight?" Pollux asked.

"Did you _lose_?"

"Did this happen at track―?"

" _Enough_!" Caelum snapped, "I tripped and skinned up my chin. As for my neck. . . it's none of your concern." They both began to laugh. It was _annoying_. "Do as I say. Finish cleaning, or else you'll be eating vegetables all night." This jump started them into action, going to where Caelum ordered, cleaning their mess.

Caelum sighed, going to the bathroom. He cleaned off his chin ― which was a bit bloody. As for his neck. . . Caelum found a turtleneck to wear. It was itchy and annoying, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

Caelum sighed, going back to the kitchen once he had finished. Both Castor and Pollux were in front of the television, which had been turned up. "― _Sightings of the red-and-blue man sprouting all over Queens_ ," the newscaster continued.

"Finish cleaning," Caelum ordered, snatching the remote from Pollux, and both of them moved back to where Caelum told them to be.

Caelum was about to turn it off, " _Witness claim that he calls himself the 'Spider-Man',_ " Caelum almost choked, the remote fumbling in his hands. " _Unlike the so-called_ 'Daredevil' _of Hell's Kitchen_ ―"

"That's a bad word!" Both boys said, and Caelum shushed them, annoyed.

" _This 'Spider-Man' seems to be doing good. He was sighted helping a older woman cross the street, and stopping a runaway stroller from diving into traffic_."

Caelum listened for a few more minutes of this ' _Spider-Man_ '. Where were these super-people coming from? Were they like him, freak accidents that happened to have a strange effect.

Caelum forced himself to turn the television off, both boys were watching him, curiously. "Keep cleaning," he said, and went back to the kitchen, beginning to cook.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum spent the next couple weeks working diligently. He had midterms before the holidays, and he didn't have to luxury to spend his time playing around. Principal Davis was very upset after he heard Caelum skipped the rest of the school day. However, Caelum managed to get him the money he owed him at the end of that week. Principal Davis still brought him to his office, but it wasn't as bad as before, the day Peter nearly caught him.

He had a few more close calls with Peter. Thankfully, Principal Davis seemed to realize that Caelum needed to spend his time studying so he could stay in school and had let up on his visits. He wasn't exactly free, but Caelum was allowed to breathe a little. His mood improved, he began to tolerate Peter's midnight visits and insulted him significantly less.

Peter seemed to notice this, he invited Caelum to his lunch table. When he refused, Peter moved to him with Ned trailing behind him. Caelum was studying, one hand tracing a finger over a textbook, the other writing.

Caelum rose an eyebrow when Peter moved to sit down beside him. "What do you want?" He asked, annoyed.

"Cheer up," Peter said, smiling. "It's the holiday season."

"It's _not_ the holiday season," Caelum frowned, but didn't look at him. "It's December. The only holiday advertised is Christmas. You only say ' _holiday_ ' so you don't sound inclusive."

"Well, aren't you a grinch," Ned muttered and Caelum gave him a sarcastic smile.

"I didn't ask you to disturb me," Caelum replied. "What do you want?"

"We wanted to sit with you," Peter said.

"Uh, _you_ wanted to sit with him," Ned corrected.

"That doesn't matter," Peter said, waving it away. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Preparing for the midterms," Caelum replied, continuing to write. He wouldn't let Peter and his sidekick disturb his studying.

"Aren't you going to eat lunch?" Peter asked.

"No." Peter sighed. A minute, later, half of a turkey sandwich was set on his textbook.

"You need to eat," Peter insisted, and Caelum let out a sigh, his eyes going to the ceiling.

"Is that what you came here for?" Caelum asked, "I don't need your pity, Parker."

"He's trying to help," Ned said, annoyed. "It's just a sandwich, c'mon man."

"I'm a vegetarian," Caelum said, dumping the sandwich back on Peter's tray. "And I don't want your food. Please leave me alone."

Peter sighed, and a second later, he handed Caelum his apple. " _There_!" Caelum looked at him, exasperated. "Vegetarian-friendly." His brown eyes twinkled with amusement. The back of Caelum's neck tingled again. He forced himself to keep the passive expression, and he rolled his eyes, looking away. Peter was scratching his arm again, frowning.

He looked at Ned, and blinked. A second later, he was possessing him. He quickly grabbed the apple and dropped it. Caelum went back to his body, and Ned blinked, perplexed. "Oh no, I can't eat it," Caelum said monotonously. Peter stared at Ned, confused and hurt.

"Why'd you do that?" Peter asked.

"Do _what_?" Ned asked, confused. "What just happened?"

Caelum hid his amusement. "What do you mean what just happened?" Peter demanded, and they began to bicker annoyingly. Caelum began to gather his things, and putting them in his bag. It would be better to study in the library anyway. "Wait, Cael!" Peter grabbed his arm. Caelum snatched it away, as if he were burned.

"I have to go," He said.

"Ned and I are going into the city this weekend to buy christmas presents," Peter finally said, and Caelum frowned. "I was wondering if you wanted to come?"

"No," He said bluntly. "I have work to do." He had a shift this Saturday, and he needed to spend time studying instead of window shopping.

Peter frowned, his eyes going wide with disappointment. Caelum felt his gut twist. He bit the inside of his cheek, sighing. "I'll talk to my parents," He said, and Peter perked up immediately. "That's not a promise. Don't get overexcited." Before Peter could say anything else, Caelum turned and quickly left.


	9. - 9 -

** chapter nine: **

  
Caelum’s parents didn’t mind him going to the city to go Christmas shopping ― mainly because they didn’t _know_ he was going. It was an easily crafted lie to sell, his decathlon team was doubling up on practices due to the regional event being so soon on the horizon. His parents took the bait easily, and now he was allowed to go to the school for extra study time.

Caelum left the apartment, promising to return before 6 PM, before heading out and stopping at Peter’s apartment directly one floor below.

He knocked, and Peter was quick to answer, all grins and excitement. “Great, you’re here,” He turned to call behind him. “ _Ned_! Let’s go!”

Ned hurried over, bundled just as much as the others. They all said goodbye to Mrs. May before leaving, and walking across down the street.

Before they got off the train, Peter and Ned wanted to go get coffee. Caelum didn't mind, it was early, and he didn't drink coffee. The bitter taste to threw him off, and he preferred tea anyway.

They sat down waiting for their order to be done. Caelum's was finished first, and he accepted his green tea. He listened to Peter talk while he stirred the drink, delicately mixing two sugars in it before sipping it.

Peter was near ecstatic. Caelum had never seen the boy so happy. He was smiling brightly, his mouth running a mile a minute. “I want to get Mr. Harrington and May a gift, but I don’t know what I’ll get them. I know May likes anything yellow or something that has a cat, but I don’t know _what_. I looked online for something, but everything was either too expensive, or just not something I think she would like. Mr. Harrington is a teacher, so I want to get him, like, an apple, _right_? But that’s really overrated. I mean, what’s he going to do with an _apple_! _Oh_! What if I get him a _whale_?”

“You’re going to buy him a _whale_?” Caelum narrowed his eyes, but his mouth twitched in a smile.

“Not a _real_ whale,” Peter shrugged. “Something small, like a paperweight.”

“I think teachers don’t need any more paperweights,” Ned admitted. “What are they going to do with it?”

Peter huffed, disappointed, and Caelum couldn’t help a smirk. He was so adorable when he pouted. He shook his head, looking out the window. He could see a few people walking, either looking down at phones or going in a brisk, even pace. Some were huddled over, ready to get to their location and out of the cold.

“Caelum?” He looked over, Ned was watching him. “What are you getting your folks?”

“. . . _Nothing_ ,” He admitted. He didn’t think about it until now. He didn’t have money to give them anything, and he also didn’t feel obligated to. His parents always got each other gifts, and they always supplied the boys with gifts. Usually, Caelum got a tie, or a nice pair of slacks. He was very grateful for that, but he never believed that he was supposed to give anything back. This month was all about giving, and Caelum never had anything to give. His money was limited, his time was finite, and his resources few.

“Oh,” Peter frowned. “You know you don’t _have_ to buy them something, right?”

Caelum sneered, annoyed by the reminder that he wasn’t exactly spoilt rich. “ _Yes_ , I am well aware, Parker. I simply do not usually give gifts to my immediate family. It’s not in my best wishes and I have better things to do with my time.”

“Why are you so _angry_?” Ned suddenly asked, and Caelum frowned, blinking. “I mean, he wasn’t being _rude_ , he was just suggesting something.”

“It doesn’t matter―” Peter insisted, but Ned wasn’t having it.

“It _does_ matter! You stick your neck out for this–this bag of actual _shit_ , and he just _insults_ you in return!?” Ned scowled, annoyed and more than upset. “No _wonder_ you have no friends, Caelum. He was trying to help you, and he wasn’t exactly being _rude_ about it either. Why don’t you get off your high horse for a day and actually appreciate something for _once_?”

Caelum stared, surprised by Ned’s honest words. He crossed his arms and leaned back, thinking. He knew the consequences of having ‘ _fun_ ’. He knew that he wasn’t exactly rich and hardly had money to spend.

However. . . his parents weren’t here ― Principal Davis wasn’t here. It was just Caelum, Ned, and Peter. He had already paid off the tuition for the month, he didn’t have any reason to need extensions from Principal Davis. In any case, he could always pick up more shifts around winter break ― that was really the season when people’s cars started to break down on them.

Caelum would have to work more hours anyway, if he just increased his workload and saved his money. . . it would jumpstart him on the next semester. Caelum would have the money to spend, technically. He would be able to have. . . ‘ _fun_ ’.

“ _Fine_ ,” Caelum said after much deliberation. “But _only_ today,” He warned when he saw both Ned and Peter’s faces light up. He sipped his tea and managed a smirk. “Where are we going to first?”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Just as Caelum suspected, he didn’t have a lot of money, but he did have enough to buy a few presents. He bought a pair of cufflinks for his father that were on sale, 60% off, a nice handbag for his mother that may or may not came from _Goodwill_. His brothers both got a toy, which happened to be an interesting red and blue transformer that could split in two ― one would be for Castor, the other Pollux. With the last of his money, he bought a small teddy bear wearing a blue bow.

His eye caught it immediately, and warm memories filled his mind. Sweet laughter and gentle touches. Warm hugs and kisses to the forehead. Her favourite colour was blue, baby blue.

Not only did Caelum spend more money than he would have _ever_ spent on himself, he also had a great time hanging out with Ned and Peter ― although he would never admit it aloud. He immediately knew why Ned and Peter were friends. They were funny and easily compatible. They made pop culture jokes to each other, most of them Caelum didn’t understand. He had never taken the time to watch any of the films or shows they references. When Peter realized that all these jokes he was spouting were going right over Caelum’s head, he nearly had a heart attack.

“What do you _mean_ you’ve never seen _Jaws_!?” Peter demanded, and Caelum rose an eyebrow.

“You just answered your own question.”

“ _But_ ,” he looked to Ned for help, but he looked just as shocked as Peter was. “It’s _Jaws_ , Cael! I mean, you’ve had to at least _heard_ of it.”

“I don’t watch television much,” Caelum admitted. “My brothers are big on TV, though. I usually watch news outlets.”

Peter looked absolutely stricken, “You, Ned and I are going to come over to my house,” Peter said seriously. “We’re going to have a. . . ‘ _Get-Cael-Caught-Up-On-Movies_ ’ night.”

“If movie are usually an hour and a half to two hours long, I don't think I'll be able to watch them all in one night.”

Peter frowned, “You're right.” He agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We need to set out a schedule for proper binge watching.”

“Where are we going next?” Ned spoke up.

“What time is it?” Peter asked.

“About 4:30.”

“Can we go to Wal-Mart or something?” Caelum asked. “I need to pick up some wrapping paper.”

“ _Oh_! Good idea!” Ned agreed and they began to walk again. The nearest Walmart was too far, but they did go to Target, which was as packed as they would expect.

Caelum frowned at the flooded counters and desperate people. “Actually, I can use newspaper. . .” He said, and the others nodded their agreements.

Caelum and the others began to leave, but Peter stopped abruptly, turning around and looking for something. “Peter?” Ned said, and he turned.

“I, uh, we need to go to Target!” Caelum furrowed his eyebrows, but there was no arguing it.

Peter was already running back, slipping inside the doors with both Caelum and Ned close behind. “Did you need something, Parker?” Caelum asked, confused as they were greeted but several dozens people, all running in and out of the store. Peter didn’t answer, and he didn’t get to.

The loud _pop-pop-pop_ were distinct. Caelum crouched down, and people began to run immediately. “We have to go!” Ned shouted, leading them outside. Caelum listened, and turned to run, but Peter was lagging behind and was soon imperceptible from the rest of the crowd.

“ _Peter_!?” Caelum called, stopping and looking around. Several people bumped into him, knocking him a few steps back. He couldn’t find Peter! In a situation like this, Peter could have fallen and be trampled to death. He could have been inside still.

He could have been _shot_.

Caelum ran back inside, shoving past people and moving along the sides of the walls. Target was a lot quieter now that everyone was gone. He saw that one of the lights above were broken, the gunshots shattering the glass.

Caelum stayed along the side of the wall, keeping his head down. He heard sharp, indistinct sobbing, and he forced himself to stay as quiet as possible. He heard someone speaking sharply, anger layering his tone. “ _Open it_!” He hissed, and the sobbing got louder.

“I–I can’t!” The person was a young woman, probably a few years older than himself. She was breathing raggedly and he heard her voice tremble as she spoke. “I--I’m not the manager! I ca–can’t open it wi–without the–the manager―! No! _Please_!” Caelum moved closer, all he had to do was look one of them in the eyes.

“She’s lying,” another man said gruffly. “I say, we shoot her and throw the thing on the ground. It’ll open eventually.”

“ _Please_!” The girl sobbed, “Please, _don’t_! I have a family!”

One of the men laughed, “‘ _I have a family_ ’!” He heard a thud, and the woman cried out, gasping. Caelum felt his gut twist, he could see the ankles of one of the men. He needed to draw their attention.

He picked up a small toy and toss it. It hit the ground with a sharp thud, drawing all of their attention. “Check that out,” someone said softly, and he heard heavy footsteps approaching him.

Caelum moved in his line of sight, and stared right in his eyes. The back of his neck prickled and when he blinked, he was looking down at himself.

“What was it?” Someone asked, and Caelum turned around.

“Nothing,” He said. His voice sounded like he had a sore throat. It was coarse and heavy. He walked back over, stepping close to the first man. He wouldn’t have a lot of time.

Caelum balled his fist and reared back. Then, he saw something on the wall behind the man he was about to attack. What the _hell_?

Something white came at him, and they came into the light, Caelum’s hand got hit back from the attack, attaching to the white shelf, unable to move. “ _What_ ―?!”

“Sorry, but I don’t think that’s for sale!” Spider-Man shouted, swinging towards one of them men, his feet knocking into their face. They fell back, bowing over the table. Caelum tried to yank his hand away, and turned to one of the men behind Spider-Man, going for the gun at his waist.

“ _Stop_!” Caelum shouted, and the man turned, looking at him. Caelum felt the tingling in his neck, and blinked.

Then, he was in the man’s body, pointing a gun at Spider-Man. It was cold in his hands and it momentarily stunned Caelum. He had never held a gun before. “What ― _Lucas_!?” He didn’t have time to say anything.

Spider-Man whirled around and punched him. Caelum’s head snapped back, and he was nearly taken off his feet by the force of the attack. Caelum stumbled away, the gun going off,

He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and gasped aloud. It burned and Caelum felt tears in his eyes. He looked over, feeling his shoulder, which was fine. Then, he looked across the room. The man that had his hand stuck also had a gunshot wound through his shoulder.

“ _Wha_. . .?”

“ _Hey_! Put that thing away!” He felt the gun yanked from his grasps. Someone on the ground tried to jump Spider-Man, but he twisted, his body lithe, and sent out the sticky white substance. It stuck firmly to his chest.

Suddenly, he was pulled forward and sucker punched in the face. Caelum felt his nose crack and pain spread across his nose. He fell back, squirming, and his neck felt like it was on fire. He needed to get back to his body ― _fast_.

Caelum scrambled up, running to where he knew his body was slumped, and Spider-Man was fast on his heels. “Where do you think you’re going?” He called after him.

Caelum dove, and saw his body leaned against the wall, a slight sweat on his face, and his eyes scrunched in pain. “ _No_!” Spider-Man shouted, and Caelum was promptly kicked in the stomach. Caelum gasped, but looked in his own eyes and blinked.

Caelum groaned, gripping his stomach, feeling the phantom pains from the other two men. Spider-Man was going all out, webbing the man to the floor. Caelum vaguely heard pounding on the glass windows and rubbed his eyes. “Are you okay? Did he―Did he hurt you?”

Caelum muttered a swear under his breath, rubbing his once-broken nose. “No, I’m fine,” He growled. He still needed to find Peter! He struggled to his feet, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hey, I don’t think you should―”

“Don’t touch me!” Caelum snapped, upset. He pushed the masked annoyance away, and began to walk around. He held his gut and limped slightly. “ _Peter_!?” He had to find Peter, if he got hurt, or was hiding. Knowing him, he’d want to play hero and try to save the day, the idiot. He’d only manage to get himself shot and killed, and where would that put either of them. “Peter, I _swear_ if you’re hiding and being a complete _shit_ , I am going to murder you!”

“ _Uh_ ―” Spider-Man began to say, but he stopped when there was banging at the door again. He turned, and Caelum froze when he realized it was the police. This would be all over the news. His parents would know immediately where he was. His father would find out and he would not be happy.

They needed to go, he needed to find Peter. “ _Parker_! Come _on_ , we have to leave.”

“ _Hey_ _. . ._!”

“ _Shut up_!” Caelum snapped at the man, “I know you seem to always want to be the star of the day, but I need you to be quiet for a _minute_! Make yourself useful and let the police in!”

“ _I_ ―!”

“ _Go_!” Caelum practically screamed. His heart was racing, what if one of those bullets had hit Peter, where was this _stupid_ boy!?

Spider-Man did as he was told. He swung up to the rafters and opened the previously barred doors. Caelum wondered why they didn’t simply break the glass, but he didn’t want to get too much into it.

Caelum searched the aisles, looking up and down them frantically, calling Peter’s name ― he refused to leave without the boy. He refused to go anywhere.

Eventually, a police officer found him looking around for Peter and stopped him. “I’m looking for my friend, I _need_ to find my friend!” Caelum persisted to the man. Peter definitely ran back inside, he was in here somewhere.

“Young man, there will be paramedics coming,” he insisted. “Maybe he’s outside?”

“ _No_ ,” Caelum tried to pull himself away. “He was in _here_! I _saw_ him run back in here ― _Peter_!”

“ _Cael_!” The voice came from the entrance. Caelum turned sharply, and let the police officer lead him to the front of the store. Peter was there, waiting. Caelum could have fainted in relief. Thank _god_ , he was safe.

Caelum walked over, his relief suddenly transforming into anger. As soon as he was close, Caelum smacked Peter on the arm. “Where the _hell_ were you!?” His hissed. “I saw you run back in here! Why would you do that!? Are you _insane_!?”

“I–I saw a woman trip inside,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I went back to help her.” Caelum stared at the boy, stunned, but still angry. He still wanted to hit him. He still wanted to kiss him.

“I am going to _kill_ you, Parker,” Caelum growled, wanting to hit him again. He suddenly realized he was shaking. The prospect of losing Peter seemed to much for him to even dream of. If it became a reality, he didn’t know what he would do.

Caelum shook his head, rubbing his temples. He saw news cameras filling the area, filming him. He went stiff, “We have to go. Where’s Ned?” Caelum said quickly, and began to leave, keeping his head down. Ned, for his sake, was chattering with a reporter, giving his account of what happened.

“Then, we heard gunshots and started to run. I look back and both of my friends are _gone_ and―” Caelum yanked Ned by the arm, pulling him away.

“We’re _leaving_ ,” He insisted, keeping his head down. He recognized the symbol on the microphone ― _Daily Bugle_ , his father’s favourite. Caelum prayed that his father wasn’t watching.

Ned looked a bit stunned, but seeing Caelum’s no-nonsense face and tone, he didn’t put up a fight.

It wasn’t hard they rushed to the subway, Caelum completely silent the entire way. “Hey,” Caelum looked over to see Peter smiling at him. “You alright?” Caelum didn't know what to say. On one hand, he was terrified that his father would see what happened. On the other hand, Peter was _alive_.

“I'm fine,” Caelum promised. “Don't worry.” Peter nodded and smiled at him, and they were fairly quiet all the way back to Queens.


	10. - 10 -

**chapter ten:**

  
Caelum immediately knew he was in trouble the minute he stepped foot in his house. Before he had even put his key in the lock, the door swung open. Caelum took a step back in surprise, but his father was faster. He grabbed him by the collar, yanking him in the house, and slamming the door shut behind them. Caelum gagged, as his father threw him to the floor, face-first, with a heavy thud.

He gasped, wincing, “ _Justice_!” His mother exclaimed, but his father wasn’t done.

“Where the _hell_ have you been!?” He growled, grabbing the front of his shirt, and Caelum felt his stomach twist suddenly, his eyes going wide.

“ _School_ ―” He started to say, but his father promptly smacked him across the head. He hit the ground again, barely managing to hold himself up.

“Bull _shit_!” He snapped. “You were on the news, that shooting in Target we _saw_ you!”

Caelum’s heart was thudding against his chest, “I―We―”

“Called the damn school said nobody was holding a decathlon practice today!” His father continued. “Asked them about the track team, and they said that _Algol Caelum Forest_ wasn’t on no goddamned track team!”

“I–I can explain,” He said, and his father scoffed, throwing him back on the ground. His elbows skidded against the wooden flooring.

“You’d _better_ start explaining, boy!” Caelum flinched, trying to control his breathing. His father knew that he wasn’t on the track team, and he knew Caelum had been in the city.

Caelum started slowly, “We finished practice early. It wasn’t at at the school ― it was at a friend’s house, Ned Leeds. Everyone was there, I–I didn’t think you’d let me go if I said it wasn’t at school. I apologize for lying.”

“Then why the _hell_ were you in the city?”

  
“We finished early, and a few of my teammates wanted to go Christmas shopping.” The lies began to slip off his tongue easily, “We took the subway and went to Target. Then, the shooting happened.”

Caelum and his father stared at one another, and he hoped his father couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating. “I don’t believe you.” His stomach fluttered.

“Ask Peter,” Caelum said suddenly, “He was with us.”

“Peter _Parker_?” His mother spoke, surprised. “I didn’t know he went to Midtown.”

“He’s on a scholarship too,” Caelum explained. “It’s the partial one.”

“Fine,” His father hissed, and let Caelum go. “We’ll go downstairs ― you and me.” Caelum swallowed and gave a small nod. “And if I find out that you were lying―”

“I’m _not_ lying―” His father hit him across the cheek. Caelum’s closed his eyes, holding his face.

“ _Don’t_ interrupt me!” His father hissed. “You _were_ lying, you told us you were at that _school_ , we’ll discuss your punishment after we clear this up.” Caelum stared at his father, then turned to his mother, who averted her gaze, looking down at the floor, his arms crossed over her chest. 

  
“Yes, sir,” Caelum murmured, and shakily stood. His father grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking him to his feet. Caelum winced, but stood anyway.

“ _C’mon_ ,” His father growled, and pulled him out of the apartment. Caelum walked down the steps quickly and pointed out Peter’s door. His father knocked loudly, and Caelum tried to stand straight.

The door opened a moment later, Peter was smiling. Caelum had left his presents for his family with him, and promised he’d be back later. He was expected Caelum, but not his father, and probably not the state Caelum had been in. He blinked, taking a step back. “You Peter?” His father demanded.

“ _Yes_. . .” Peter said slowly, trying to catch Caleum’s eye. He didn’t look at him.

“Was my son with you and the decathlon team today? _Don’t_ lie to me,” Caelum’s eyes flicked up at Peter, silently begging the boy to lie for him. If his father knew. . . if he suspected something worse was going on. He just needed Peter to lie, just this once.

“Yes, sir,” Peter said firmly. “We went after we had a practice this morning.” Caelum could have _kissed_ Peter.

“Where was the practice held?” Caelum froze, and Peter looked confused, and a bit panicked. Caelum had no other choice. He stared in Peter’s eyes and blinked.

He was possessing Peter, and for a moment. Everything was loud and bright and he winced slightly. He could hear the air vents blowing and the noises of a buzz near the yellowed apartment hall light. He heard someone in the kitchen and smelt the vaguely familiar scent of pasta or lasanga. It was distracting and overloading, like someone dialed his senses all the way up to ten, but Caelum ignored it, going back to the problem at hand.

When he saw his body, he nearly jumped. He had somehow managed to bust his lip, Caelum didn’t even notice. His father was holding his arm so tight, it seemed like he would lose circulation in the limb.

His father looked wild, his eyes narrowed to slits, waiting for Peter's —  _his_ — answer. "We were at Ned’s house. Ned Leeds.” Then, Caelum blinked again, and he was in his own body.

Peter looked shaken for a moment and scratched his neck fiercely. He looked behind Caelum and his father, confused. His father had loosened his hold on Caelum’s arm slightly. He relaxed, but his father wasn’t done quite yet.

Caelum’s father swiftly took him away, turning on the spot and dragging him back up the steps. “ _Wait_!” Peter called after him, but it was no good. Neither Caelum nor his father looked back at the boy.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
His father had a hard time punishing Caelum at first ― all he ever did was study and go to school, at least from what they knew. So, when he realized that he couldn’t exactly take his schoolbooks, he decided that physical punishment would have to suffice.

Caelum sat on his bed, gently pressing the ice pack to his eyebrow. His ribs burned with every breath, and his eyebrow bled slightly after he finished with him. His father decided that that was something he would deal with. He also decided that since he wanted to lie about being on the track team ― and potentially missing out on tons of scholarship money ― he _personally_ signed Caelum up.

His heart sank at the new addition to his schedule. Track meets were on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Decathlon was on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This would leave only the weekends or late afternoons for work.

They usually didn’t let out until 6 PM, and he had to get home before 8 PM. _Two hours_. That was all he had. Two _hours_ to work. Mr. Goldson only paid him eight dollars an hour ― two hours would get him a little over sixteen dollars a _day_! He’d be making a little under a hundred dollars a week.

He’d _never_ be able to pay for school now. He’d _never_ be able to live. Principal Davis would demand he’d ‘ _pay_ ’ for extensions, and it would only be so long before he asked him to do something Caelum couldn’t even dream to do. It was only a matter of time before he demanded that Caelum get undressed too.

Caelum sat, curled on the bed. He couldn’t do this. _He couldn’t do this_. He didn’t have the _money_ ― he’d _never_ have the money. He would be. . . he would be in Principal Davis’ _debt_ for the rest of his life. He’d _never_ be able to recover.

He _had_ to find a way ― he _had_ to find something he could do. He couldn’t just wait ― his parents would find out that the scholarship was partial eventually, they’d find out about Mr. Goldson and Principal Davis.

Caelum’s hands shook from the thought. He couldn't help it. He was _terrified_. There was nothing else he could do ― his schedule was _packed_ , he’d have no time to do anything anymore. He’d have no time to breathe, to get the _money_.

He heard a soft _tap, tap, tap_ , on the window. Caelum turned quickly, and saw Peter outside of it. Caelum couldn’t talk to Peter right now. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes. It was nearly midnight, his parents wouldn’t be asleep yet.

He gently moved over, cracking the window the tiniest bit. “I can’t talk, Parker,” Caelum said, his eyes on the ground so he didn’t have to look at him.

“What did he do to you?”

“It’s nothing. Go to bed.”

“Caelum, _please_ ,” Peter begged, and Caelum closed his eyes. He couldn’t take his begging. He _really_ hated this boy.

Caelum moved away, grabbing his coat and a pair of slippers. He went back to his window, and Peter stepped back so he could crawl through. “Your floor,” Caelum said and Peter gave a small nod. The fire escape was coated in ice from the snow, and Caelum held tight to the bar to keep from slipping. Peter’s window was already open. Caelum slowly crawled through, slipping his shoes off and sat on his bed.

Peter sat beside him, closing the window, staunching the cold chill blowing through the room. Caelum still didn't look at Peter. “We can watch _Jaws_ , if you want,” Peter suggested, and Caelum let out a slight scoff, his lip twitching in amusement.

“You don’t have to do this,” Caelum said. “I dug this hole myself.”

“I’m your _friend_ ,” Peter nudged him with his shoulder. “I’m supposed to help you out.”

Caelum shook his head, “You’ll get yourself killed thinking like that.”

“Maybe,” Peter agreed, “They’ll have to catch me first.” Caelum chuckled, and Peter grinned. “We don’t have to watch _Jaws_. I have some Legos, we can just. . . _build_ , if you want.”

“ _Build_?” Caelum rose an eyebrow and Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Whenever I’m stressed out, I. . . mess around with Legos,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s calming.”

Caelum turned to look at this silly boy who played with Legos. Only Peter would do something like that. Peter was smiling back, but it faltered slightly, his eyes roaming over Caelum’s bruised face. He turned away, but Peter stopped him, reaching for his chin, turning him back. “ _Oh_. . .” He gently rose a hand to his eyebrow. Caelum flinched, but didn’t pull away. Peter touched his eyebrow, not saying anything. Caelum stared at him, the back of his neck tingling, but he didn’t want to possess Peter.

Caelum averted his eyes from Peter’s and looked at his lips. He immediately regretted it, and turned before he could do something he’d regret later. Peter dropped his hand, his warm touch tingling where he last touched it. “I. . . we could just. . . _talk_?”

“Like always?” Caelum asked, and Peter smiled again.

“If you want to.” Caelum did. Peter started talking again, and Caelum simply listened, giving his two cents. He could listen to Peter talk for days. He felt a bit of his stress lift off his shoulders, and Peter seemed to notice.

Soon, they were on the ground, messing with Peter’s Legos. Peter seemed to be building some kind of spacecraft, and Caelum was just fiddling with the bricks, putting two-and-two together whenever possible. He ended up building a house. It was scrawny and didn’t exactly have a working roof, but Peter seemed to love it.

He beamed, gently taking the half-built house from Caelum. “It’s a _masterpiece_ ,” He complimented, and Caelum rolled his eyes.

“ _Hardly_. It looks like a multi-coloured _shack_.” Peter let out a laugh at that, and Caelum smiled, he was proud he was able to make this boy laugh. To see his face light up with amusement and eyes twinkle with life, he loved that ― he _loved_ him.

He cleared his throat, looking back down at the pile of bricks. “Your ship is impressive,” He complimented before Peter could ask what was wrong.

“You think so?” Caelum nodded, Peter smiled and picked it up, turning it over in his hands, before handing it to Caelum. He was stunned for a moment, “Keep it.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Caelum frowned, “It’s your Legos.”

“I can get more,” Peter said. “Think of it as a Christmas gift. _Ho! Ho! Ho!_ Santa is two weeks early!”

Caelum laughed at Peter’s silly antics, “You are a _mess_ , Parker,” Caelum noted and Peter grinned slyly.

“I try. I have to exercise my ‘ _mess_ ’ every other day.”

“ _Really_? It must be so annoying.”

“Oh it is. But, I can bench press fifty pounds of sarcasm now,” Caelum laughed again, covering his mouth and shaking his head.

He looked at the time, it was nearly 4 AM. Luckily, Caelum finished all his homework Friday night so he could go out Saturday morning ― and just how spectacularly that failed. But, his parents would expect them to be up at 8 AM to go to early morning service, and Saturday nights were usually the only days he was ever able to get a good night’s sleep.

“I should probably go back to my room,” Caelum said, and Peter gave a small frown, but when he saw the time, he agreed. Caelum helped clean up the legos, and Peter wrapped Caelum’s lovely spaceship in a pillowcase. Caelum grabbed his slippers and his jacket, opening Peter’s window and leaving.

Caelum’s room was a frigid cold when he returned, but Caelum didn’t mind. He closed the window behind him, and moved to the desk. He unraveled the Lego spaceship and set it down on the desk, smiling slightly when he saw it.


	11. - 11 -

** chapter eleven: **

  
Caelum had two more weeks before he was released for winter break. Between theses two weeks, there were four indoors track meet ― which Caelum was not thrilled to go to ― and a few more practices for the decathlon team. Caelum was still studying for his last final, which his teacher decided to hold the literal day before the break.

He tried to find ways to compensate for his new lack of hours at work, but he couldn’t think of any. Without his work at the auto shop, his finances would seriously decrease. Caelum was practically sweating buckets thinking about it. He worked as hard as he could between the two hours he had, and he explained the situation to Mr. Goldson. He didn’t like it at all, but there wasn’t anything Caelum could do. He made up for it by doing the most work he could between the two hours he had. He even tried to stay longer ― certainly cutting it close to when his parents arrived back home.

Finally, Caelum had his last test, and it felt like the entire school breathed a sigh of relief. Students in the hall were happier, excited for the holidays and passing around gifts to each other. Even their track coach, Coach Wilson, cancelled the last day of practice, since they would be on break the next day. He only warned them to ‘ _stay fit_ ’ over the holiday season because they would resume running January 1st.

Caelum had the entire afternoon off, something he hadn’t had in a while. His first order of business was to go straight to work and cram as many hours as he could. He wouldn’t be able to slip out as easily over the break, but if he said he was having ‘ _decathlon practices_ ’ at Ned’s house, he would be able to slip out for full day shifts. Although this might not completely rebalance his finances, it would certainly help in the ‘ _grand scheme_ ’ of things.

Caelum was at his locker, grabbing his things as fast as humanly possible. He had a few winter break packets for different classes, but they weren’t anything he couldn’t finish really fast. He kept checking around his locker, making sure Principal Davis didn’t pop up and demand another ‘ _office visit_ ’. Caelum hadn’t seen him in at least a week, and seeing as this was probably his last chance to get Caelum, well, he didn’t want that to happen.

Caelum had his coat on and he was running at full speed for the doors ― something he knew Principal Davis couldn’t do. All those track meets seemed to finally benefit him, because his was breathing in the harsh, cold air. Caelum was about to run again, heading for the sub to get to the shop, when someone grabbed his shoulder.

Caelum jumped, stumbling back, his eyes wide. In his confusion, he slipped on ice, falling and almost hitting the ground. Someone caught his hand just before he could fall, though, “ _Whoa_!” Peter exclaimed, and Caelum stared, stunned.

Peter was holding unto the door with one hand, the other he was holding Caelum steady in some kind of twisted tango-dip. Peter smiled, his brown eyes bringing him out of his daze, “Hey, Cael.”

Caelum felt like his entire body could light on fire. He steadied his footing and brushed himself off. “My apologies,” Caelum said. He checked his watch ― he was wasting money talking to Peter. “Is there something you wanted?”

Peter blinked, “Oh! Right!” He pulled his backpack around and pulled out a grocery bag. Caelum rose an eyebrow, as Peter handed it to him. “You forgot you family’s presents at my place. I didn’t think it’d be smart to just drop them at your doorstep. You know, since they’re supposed to be secret.”

“Oh,” Caelum took the bag from Peter. “Thank you.” He looked around Peter, “Where’s Ned?” The boy usually hung off of him like a stalactite.

“He had early dismissal,” Peter explained. “His family’s going to Vermont for the holidays. By the way, are you going to go upstate with your people?”

Caelum frowned, he forgot about that. They would probably only spend Christmas upstate though, not the entire break. Both of his parents had work. “Probably, yes.”

“Oh, well, then,” Peter reached back inside his bag. Then, he pulled out a small box. He pushed it towards Caelum. “ _Here_.”

Caelum rose an eyebrow, “I. . . didn’t get you anything.” The words made Caelum upset. Caelum remembered his comment the other day ― he blatantly said that he never got his family anything, but when Peter presented him with a gift, Caelum didn’t know what to do. He felt regretful, he should’ve thought of Peter, he should have found some way to accommodate him into his finances so that he could have gotten him something instead of standing here, staring at this box like an idiot.

“You can open it, you know,” Peter nudged, smiling.

A frown bit his lips, but anticipation pinched his gut. His heart did a small flutter as he slowly pulled the top of the box off, seeing what Peter could have gotten him.

“Mr. Forest.” His spine went rigid, and Caelum almost dropped the box. Standing behind Peter, was Principal Davis. His eyes were narrowed at the boy, but his lips twisted into a triumphant smirk. Caelum’s heart went from a flutter to instant thundering in seconds.

Peter saw the panic on his face, and he stepped towards Caelum, turning to face Principal Davis. “Would you please see me in my office?” Caelum’s hands shook slightly and his fingers tightened on the un-open box.

“Actually, Caelum is going home with me today,” Peter said simply, he felt him grab his arm, giving a soft tug.

“I am sure you are more than capable to walk yourself home, Mr. . . Piter?” Caelum remembered when he found that amusing. Now, it made his stomach twist in disgust. “These matters do not concern you, please release Mr. Forest and be on your way.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Peter said fiercely.

“Parker,” Caelum tried to reason. If Peter kept this up, both his _and_ Peter’s scholarships would be revoked. He couldn’t have that held over his head.

“Cael―”

“Leave me alone,” Caelum pulled his arm away. He stared at the unreleased box before thrusting it into Peter’s chest. “And. . . take your _trash_ with you.” Peter looked at him, hurt and betrayed. Caelum almost faltered, he almost took Peter back in his arms, and apologized. He almost blew his cover.

Caelum turned sharply, and Principal Davis smirked, “Happy Holidays, Mr. Piter.” Caelum knew that nothing happy would come out of it, at least from Peter’s expression.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum barely had the strength to get back home once Principal Davis finished. He was more than upset by Caelum’s ‘ _disappearing act_ ’ for the past few weeks. He felt as if his leniency for the test season has been betrayed somehow. Caelum didn’t question it. He was already suffering enough, he couldn’t get that look out Peter gave him out of his head. Peter had stood up for Caelum and he simply tossed it out as if it meant nothing. It made Caelum sick to even think about it.

Caelum sighed, rubbing his forehead. Thankfully, he had enough time to go to the auto shop and work. Austin, Mr. Goldson’s grandson was there. He didn’t talk much, but he was a nice guy, in his early twenties. He also seemed to know that Caelum was definitely too young to be working any type of job ― at least, not yet ― but didn’t say anything on it either.

Caelum didn’t know him well enough to confide in him, he didn’t know anyone like that, but he did agree to pick up a few of his shifts when Caelum desperately needed it. He didn’t seem to mind, even when Caelum was having a particularly rough evening after visiting Principal Davis. Austin would look at him, and then nod, instructing him to tighten the bolts on a car that was brought in, or to make sure the engine was running ― something simple that didn’t take too much work.

Caelum respected Austin, and Austin did him. But, when he saw Caelum with a few more scratches on his face and neck, his mouth tugged into a frown. “I apologize for being late,” he said, putting his coat up. “I was. . . held up.”

“Who is doing that to you?” Caelum nearly jumped out of his skin. He wasn’t prepared for that kind of question ― was it _that_ noticeable?

“I don’t know―”

“Caelum,” Austin’s voice was even, but serious. “You have scratches all down your neck.” Caelum’s hands went to his neck, trying to cover it. “Do you need me to call the police?”

“ _No_!” Caelum said suddenly, his eyes wide. He quickly tried to cover it up, regain control of the conversation. “This is nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“ _Caelum_ ,” He wasn’t accusatory, he wasn’t upset, but Caelum couldn’t trust him, They knew he went to Midtown High, they could easily contact Principal Davis and make matters far worse than it was.

“Stay out of  my business,” Caelum growled, upset. He tried to shove past him, but Austin grabbed his arm. He had big, firm hands from several hours of manual labour.

“Pops is fixing on firing you,” Austin said simply. “He thinks you’re messing with some girl.”

Caelum was affronted, and he made a face of disgust, “I’m _not_ ―!”

“I know,” Austin said, and Caelum blinked, at first confused. Then, absolute embarrassment riddled his face, how did he _know_!? Austin gave the slightest of smiles. “I want to convince him that you’re not messing around with some girl, but I need to know where you’re getting these scratches from. He’s not trying to be involved in any kind of business.”

Caelum weighed his odds. He definitely needed this job ― at least until he could confirm an alternative. If he lost his job now, Caelum would be broke, again, and he could hardly afford to go a week getting paid for two hours each day,

Caelum licked his lips, tugging on his chin and ignoring the light cut there. “My dad,” He finally said. It wasn’t a _total_ lie. “He's the one who does all this. And, I can't exactly leave, so there's nothing I can do.”

“I can call the police,” Austin insisted, but Caelum shook his head.

“Let it go. I don't care about it, neither should you,” he stood taller. “Now, I would really appreciate it if you told your grandfather that I am not messing with any girls.”

Austin gave a small smile, “I will.” Caelum appreciated it, and he walked into the shop and began to work.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum got home in time and his parents were none the wiser. He cleaned his face up and cooked dinner. Then, he helped his mother put the dishes away before saying goodnight and leaving.

Caelum slipped into his room, and closed the door softly. He was surprised when he saw a dark shadow on the other side of his window. He nearly slammed the back of his head against the door. The person on the other side gently rapped on the glass. Peter wanted to be let in, he wanted to talk.

Caelum hesitated, but did so anyway, he opened the window, expecting Peter to slip inside, but instead, he just dropped a plastic bag in Caelum's hands before walking away. “Wha―!? _Wait_!” Peter didn't turn around, and left down his steps.

He looked at the plastic bag in his hands. It was a sheet of paper and the box he tried to give him earlier. Caelum delicately opened it, reading the note first. Peter's handwriting wasn't great and Caelum squinted at a few parts but he did manage to read it all.

_Caelum,_

 

_I know something bad is going on between you and Principal Davis. I know you aren't telling me everything, and knowing you, nobody else knows either. I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends again. I want you to talk to me. I want you to explain, but I don't want to force you to do anything. I hope you do the right thing. I hope you put yourself first instead of someone else._

 

_I know the gift isn't amazing, I was running out of money, but I had enough to get this. I didn't know if you'd like it ― I thought it was a bit ‘girly’ but, the message was still there. I have the other half, that way we can match._

 

_Merry Christmas, Caelum._

 

_Good luck,_

 

_P. Parker_

  
Caelum's eyes skimmed over it the first time, but after the second and third, he began to fully take in the words and it's meaning. Then, his eyes grazed curiously to the small box that laid patiently on his bed.

He reached over and grabbed it. He opened it slowly, and then laughed, shaking his head. Inside, was a necklace ― a faux silver with a cheap chain. But, the charm on it, were shark teeth. Caelum assumed Peter had the other half.

The thought made him smile. Half of Peter with him ― Peter getting something exclusively for him. Caelum peeled it out if the box, in unlatching the chain and putting it around his neck. Peter was right, Caelum didn't usually wear accessories, the only exception being Avery’s friendship bracelet, and now the necklace.

Caelum suddenly felt more secure ― more _centered_ ― like it was another reminder that he was in the right place.

He felt the cold metal against his chest, and ur warmed him a little. The year was soon coming to a close, and Caelum would have even more challenges up ahead.

But, he would find a way. He would get through them. Caelum has put up to much time and effort to give up now. He was smart, he would know what to do. At least, he believed he would.


	12. - 12 -

**chapter twelve:**

  
The winter break was actually refreshing for Caelum. He finished his work early, it was a lot, but it had only taken him a few days. He told his parents that there were more ‘ _decathlon practices_ ’ at Ned’s house. His father didn't believe him at first, but after confirming it with Peter ― who consistently lied for him, and Caelum didn't even have to possess him to get it right ― his father didn't mind.

Caelum spent four whole days in the shop, racking up as many hours as he could before the start of the new year. Then, he would be reduced to only two, but Caelum found a solution for this.

There was a bar, a few buildings down from Caelum's apartment. The owner, Fred Hills, was a tough older man. Caelum proposed that he could come during the night and clean off the tables and sweep the floor. Mr. Hills agreed, and he would pay him twenty-five dollars every day he worked.

Caelum would slip out of his room after dinner, around eleven o’clock and head down to the bar. After consistently cleaning and sometimes helping to serve drinks when it got busy. He would finally be done around 4 or 4:30 in the morning.

Mr. Hills was a bit concerned for him, Caelum was a hard worker and He got the job done easily, but because of this, he wasn't getting much sleep. Caelum could compensate during the break by sleeping until nearly noon that next morning, but when school would come back around he wouldn't be able to do that anymore.

Caelum decided not to think about that and continued to work. He took off for Christmas, because his family would be out of town, but for the rest of the two weeks he either spent his time at the bar or at the shop.

Another downside from working at the bar was that it put a permanent end to his ‘ _Midnight Talks_ ’ with Peter. Caelum claimed he didn't like them, but he also found it comforting to talk to someone for a few hours. To wind down and be himself. He wouldn't have that anymore, But it wasn't like he could give up his new job. Peter would have to be put aside in order for him to keep the money consistent. Then, he would have to visit Principal Davis less and he would be able to breathe.

It felt like the new year came too fast. Everyone was chattering, ‘ _New Year, New Me_ ’, and making goals that they would never be able to fulfill. Caelum put his stuff in his locker, pulling out what he would need for his first couple periods.

Then, a skinny pale mass wrapped his arms around his neck, “ _Cael_! I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” Caelum went stock still. He felt Peter's newly defined muscles press against his skin, his warmth leeching onto his own. Once again, certain things made an appearance when Caelum seriously wanted them not to.

He slowly moved Peter away, “ _Parker_?” He said slowly, watching the elated boy curiously. Was he _high_? He had been smiling, but his eyes were narrowed in warning.

“He’s behind you, two lockers down. Ned’s distracting him, let's go,” Caelum didn't need to be told twice.

Caelum grabbed his bag and turned the other away, walking quickly down the hall, and past Principal Davis. “Thank you,” Caelum breathed, gripping his bag tight.

“That's what friends are for,” Peter nudged. They were about to ascend the staircase ― the same one Caelum pushed Peter down a few months ago ― when Ned rejoined them. His face was reddened from running, but he had a killer smile on his face. When they joined him, they began to walk again.

“Operation: _Protect C_ is completed,” Ned announced.

Caelum rose an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, “' _Protect C'_?

“I thought of the name,” Peter grinned, and his annoyance instantly disappeared. “We can keep doing that, you know. Everyday, before and after school. We can distract him while you run.”

Caelum stared at Peter, both in awe and grateful. Caelum didn't know what to say at first. He opened his mouth to speak, but a different voice spoke. “Mister Forest.” It felt like ice grew up his spine. He didn't turn around, already knowing who was standing there. His anger could have lit a room on fire. “Surely, you didn't forget our meeting this morning.” The late bell rang, and it dragged him out of his daze.

Caelum turned to go with him, but Peter grabbed his arm, “Sorry Principal Davis. That's the bell, we really ought to be in class.” Before Caelum or the Principal could protest, Peter yanked him way. His force nearly sending Caelum off his feet as he ran for the other end of the school. They made it to their homeroom, Ned trailing behind them. Their teacher, Mrs. Dowdy, didn't look pleased at all.

Caelum stepped forward before she could demand a late slip. “I apologize for put tardiness, Mrs. Dowdy. We were held up in the office, I wanted to give the staff and all my favourite teachers late Christmas gifts.”

She rose an eyebrow, shocked and pleased, Caelum looked in her eyes and blinked.

He was now the older woman, flustered by Caelum's words. “Why, thank you. Go sit down, I'll speak with you after class.” Caelum blinked again, and regained his composure.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dowdy, I really appreciate it,” he moved to go sit down. Peter and Ned looked a bit surprised, but neither said a word.

The class of students watched the exchange, both confused and stunned. Mrs. Dowdy was known to be a harsh disciplinarian all throughout the school. The rumor that Caelum was in good graces with this woman would surely spark an uproar.

Ned leaned over to look at Caelum, “What just _happened_?” Ned asked as the class began. He was sitting on Peter’s right side. Caelum was on the end, and Peter was in the middle. Caelum shushed him lightly, not wanting to get in anymore trouble.

Peter spoke next, “What did you do to her?” Caelum wasn't expecting this question. Peter wasn't angry, he didn't think he was, at least. He just sounded confused, curious. Caelum straightened at the question.

“Nothing. I simply spoke,” Caelum replied. “If you keep speaking, you'll get us all in trouble. Now, both of you, _hush_!” That was the end of it. Peter and Ned dropped it, deciding that Caelum secretly had the entire faculty in his pocket ― which wasn't too far from the truth.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Principal Davis tried several times to grab Caelum, but Peter acted like a bodyguard and Ned a bouncer. He would talk to Principal Davis in public places so it made him look bad if he blew him off. Principal Davis was getting frustrated, anger blooming on his features, and Caelum didn't know whether to be amused, or terrified.

The end of the school day came. It was a Monday, so Caelum had track practice. Ned had to go home, but Peter offered to stay with him. Considering the day’s events and Principal Davis’ anger, Caelum didn't think it to be wise to ‘ _try him_ ’.

Peter stood waiting in the gym watching as the track team ran their usual laps. It was still too cold and icy outside to run, but Coach Wilson wasn't letting that stop them. Caelum watched Peter, a part of him wanting to show off for the boy. Caelum ran fast, beating one of the fastest runners ― twice.

Coach Wilson was surprised, usually Caelum stayed behind, lagging and muttering under his breath. But, when Caelum truly gave it his all, he performed exponentially.

Caelum waited near the side, Coach Wilson shouting his praises, “ _Boy_! Why don't you run like that everyday?”

“ _Tired_ ,” Caelum breathed, a little out of breathe. Coach Wilson checked his watch, it was going on 5:50 now.

“Let's do some stretches and then go home.” The others whooped, happy with the decision. Caelum moved to sit down and went through the various stretches they usually did.

Caelum went to the locker room, changed, and met Peter back outside. “Let's go out the back, he won't be able to see us.”

“I tried that. All of the other gates are locked after 3 PM,” Caelum said, grabbing his books. “The only exit is the front doors.” Peter didn't look happy. “You don't have to do this, Parker,” Caelum began to say, but the look on Peter's face made him stop.

“He's doing _something_ to you,” Peter insisted. “It's not fair. If you would just let me―”

“ _No_!” The word was harsh, angry. Caelum couldn't afford to lose this scholarship. If he got Principal Davis sent to jail, the scholarship might not be the only thing he was losing. “Let's just go and. . . get this over with.” The tone of defeat was evident in his voice.

Peter wanted to say something else, but Caelum was already walking, and he kept walking. He and Peter walked past the front doors and nobody moved to stop him.

Caelum was shocked, but he didn't want go test it. Caelum and Peter hurried to the subway, and didn't stop until they were on the train and the doors closed.

“He didn't. . .” Caelum couldn't believe it. “He. . . didn't _come_.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Peter breathed seemingly just as shocked. 

  
A laugh bubbled in Caelum's throat until finally, he let it out. He doubled over, laughing, tears of relief and happiness streaming down his cheeks. The other people on the train gave him dirty looks, but Caelum couldn't help it.

Caelum couldn't remember a time when he felt this. . . _jubilant_. He felt as if he could jump over the clouds. God, he was so relieved.

Eventually, his stop came ― Caelum was going straight home, he didn't think he'd be able to work after the day's events. He and Peter walked to their apartment building, still happy. Peter seemed to be blazing with smiles and grins. Caelum could have _kissed_ him. He _wanted_ to, after all this. Avoiding Principal Davis for the day _and_ getting to kiss Peter Parker?

It would truly be a match made in heaven.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
He and Peter said goodbye, and Caelum started to go up to his apartment. He realized, strangely, that the door was unlocked.

Caelum opened it, and stepped inside. He took off his shoes, “Castor ― Pollux! You forgot to lock the door.” He smelt something strange, cooked meat? Maybe the boys reheated dinner from last night?

No, they had _pasta_ last night. That didn't make sense.

He put his coat on the hook and stepped into the kitchen. He froze at the sight.

His father and mother, smiling and the boys sitting at the table, whispering to one another. They all turned when they saw him.

Including, Principal Davis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry for such a short chapter, but I promise there's a lot coming after this, do stay tuned?
> 
> Anyways, I just wanted to make a note because I'm thinking of taking a break through August and October, mostly because since I'm a senior now I have a lot of work that needs to be done, and that's pretty much doubled since I'm homeschooled too. College is coming up and although I would like to believe I'm on the right track, I know there are some things I definitely need to work on in the future.
> 
> (Along with a lot of personal things that I think may come up in the next few weeks that will seriously hinder my writing :c.)
> 
> Anyways, I just wanted to let y'all know, also, I wanted to say thank you! Although I mainly write and post on Wattpad, I definitely noticed a lot of popularity for this bill in particular on AO3 and FF.net. Thanks so much for your support, questions, votes, — tears, — comments, kudos, et cetera. I love reading them and replying to them and seeing you laugh and cry and react. It really makes my small world a little bigger :).
> 
> Okay, let me stop before I get teary. (No chick flick moments, amirite?)
> 
> I'll see y'all next time, and remember...
> 
> Don't melt~!  
> \- Happyritas 


	13. - 13 -

** c ** ** hapter thirteen: **

  
His father’s words felt like a buzz between his ears. Principal Davis was _here_ ― was in _his_ house. Eating with _his_ family. Caelum would have to sit _next_ to him. Caelum would have to _listen_ and _respond_ accordingly. Caelum would have to _behave_ and not turn and run out of the room.

This was what Caelum deserved. He should have just went with him ― he shouldn't have listened to Peter that morning.

Caelum didn't comprehend the afternoon's order. One minute, he was standing and staring at the scene. The next, he was sitting down beside Principal Davis, staring numbly at a plate of vegetables.

His father said grace. Caelum didn't close his eyes, and he was glad he didn't. Principal Davis rested his hand on Caelum’s leg, gripping his thigh. Caelum nearly kicked, but stopped himself.

They passed the food around. His rather asked questions, Caelum responded blandly. “ _Yes, sir. No, sir_.”

He was hyper-aware of Principal Davis stroking his groin. He wanted to scream. He wanted to _run_. He wanted to slap his hand away and get as far from there as possible. His father was asking him something, he only heard the end of it. “―Scholarship cover next school year?”

Principal Davis answered, “The partial scholarship would have to be renewed before the end of term.” Caelum froze. _No, no, no!_

“‘ _Partial_ ’?” His father repeated, confused.

“That was a mistake,” Caelum tried to speak. “I have the _full_ scholarship.” He prayed Principal Davis would catch on.

Principal Davis rose an eyebrow. “ _No_. You have the _partial_ scholarship. The full scholarship went to. . . what was his name?” Caelum begged him not to say the name. For once, he begged he would forget it. His heart felt like it would fall out. “Peter Parker?”

His parents gaped, the boys stopped whispering. Caelum could have died on the spot. “Peter. . . _Parker_?” His father repeated, slowly. His eyes shifted to Caelum and all Caelum wanted to do was die.

“Yes,” Principal Davis nodded, “He's quite a bright boy.”

“ _Peter Parker_ ,” His father repeated again. Caelum just wanted him to leave. He wanted them all to leave. And he wanted Principal Davis to stop _touching_ him!

“ _Yes_. I thought you were aware of that.” Caelum wanted to cry. His father was glaring holes in his head. The look of shock and disappointment on his mother's face could have killed him.

“ _No_ ,” his father said. “We were _not_ aware of this.”

Principal Davis looked at Caelum, who was utterly still. “Well, that's interesting.” He ― _finally_ ― moved his hand to check the time. His touch still lingered and Caelum thought he was going to be sick. “I believe it is getting quite late. I'll have to go. It was lovely meeting you.”

“And you as well, Mr. Davis,” his mother said politely, but his father didn't move. Principal Davis grabbed stood, shook hands with his mother and father before grabbing his coat and leaving.

Caelum stared at the door, silently. He wished he could turn back time. He watched his mother stand, grabbing the boy’s arms. “Go to your room,” she ordered.

“But―!” They protested.

“ _Now_!” His father boomed and Caelum flinched. The boys stood from their seat and scrambled away. It was just his parents and him. His father stood, walking over. “‘ _Partial_ ' scholarship?”

Caelum swallowed. “I. . . I can―”

“I want the _truth_ ,” he hissed.

“I did not get the full scholarship,” he explained slowly.

“How long have you been paying for this school, then?”

“Since. . . ninth―” his father hit him across the head. He winced, straightening up.

“How _have_ you been paying for it?” His mother asked.

Caelum swallowed, he couldn't tell him about his jobs, but there was no other way around it. “I. . . I got a job.”

“A _job_?” His mother repeated. “How do you have time for a _job_?”

“I―”

“He _lied_ again,” his father spat, Caelum flinched. “Probably about the decathlon.”

“I had to pay for it,” Caelum tried, and his father sneered. "And I _didn't_ lie." Not about the decathlon at least.

“You _lied_ ,” His father snapped. Caelum looked down. “You told us you were at the _decathlon_ ―”

“I _was_ ―”

“ _Don't_ interrupt me!” His father shouted. Then, he grabbed Caelum by the shoulder, yanking him out of the chair. Caelum fell on the ground and his father kicked him. His foot hit Caelum's nose, and he felt blood come out of it.

“ _Stop_ ―” he begged, raising his arms to cover his face, but his father didn't listen. He continued to hit him, balling the front of his shirt with one hand, slamming his fist in Caelum's face with the other.

“Don't lie to me no more!” His father growled, accenting each word with an attack. Caelum barely moved. Blood was welling in his mouth, his eyes watery and hardly open. “Get up!” Caelum groaned, shaking. He couldn't move, everything hurt so _bad_. “I said,” he hit Caelum in the face again. He whimpered, “ _Get_ _up_!”

Caelum was slow, his hands shaking. He managed to get to his knees, his head bobbing, his eyes fading in and out of focus. His father got impatient and yanked him up the rest of the way. “I want you to _get_ that scholarship,” he growled. “And, I want your schedule for school. As soon as track and that decathlon is done, I want you _home_. Is that _clear_?” Caelum gave a small nod.

His father slapped him again. It didn't help him focus, he already compromised balance failed him, and he slumped forward, landing on his hands and knees. “I said. _Is_ ―” he kicked him in the gut. Caelum gasped, and fell flat. “ _That_ ―” he kicked him again, Caelum let out a sob. “ _Clear_!?” Caelum nodded frantically. He just wanted to go. He just wanted to sleep. “I didn't hear you,” his father growled.

Caelum opened his mouth, his voice a rasp, “Y. . . yes. . . sir. . .”

Finally satisfied, his father nudged him, “Go to your room. You'd better finish your homework. In fact, bring it out here when you're done.” Caelum nodded, getting to his feet. He grabbed his backpack, dragging it on the ground behind him.

He limped to his room, passing his mother who didn't look him in the eye. He saw his brothers peeking out of their door to look at him. Caelum turned his head, they didn't need to see this.

Caelum limped to his desk, falling in his seat. His shoulders were shaking and his lungs rattled with every breath. He pulled his backpack up with shaking fingers, his hand hurting, and took out his binder. He coughed, blood slipping from his lips. Caelum wiped it with his good hand, and continued to work.

It took Caelum nearly an hour and a half to finish the _one_ math paper. His hand ached with every twitch, and he had to keep rubbing it as he worked.

The door suddenly opened, and his father stepped in. Caelum felt his heart begin to pound again. “What have you finished?” He grumbled. Caelum delicately slid the paper over to him. His father’s eyes were sharp with anger, “This is _it_?”

“I–I,” Caelum swallowed. He couldn’t take another round of this. He was _tired_ , it’s been a long day ― he didn’t _want_ to do this again.

“ _This_ is why you don’t have that _damned_ scholarship!” His father snapped. “Because you don’t do the _work_.”

“I _do_ the work,” Caelum tried to defend himself. “I just―”

“Don’t talk back to me!” His father raised his hand and Caelum immediately covered his head.

“ _Sorry_! I’m _sorry_!” He begged, but his anger was already rekindled.

Caelum tried to get away from him, but his father was blocking the only exit. “I want this work done _tonight_!” He hissed and Caelum nodded, looking down, not meeting his eyes.

“I will finish it all,” Caelum said, “I _will_.” His father looked him up and down, annoyed and disgusted.

“Do you want to end up like _her_?” His father snarled, and Caelum frantically shook his head. He knew exactly who he was referencing. “Finish your _shit_. _Tonight_.” Caelum nodded again, and his father stood straight, bearing down on him with all of his shame and disgust. He turned without another word, and left his room.

Caelum stared at where his father was for several minutes. He _needed_ to work. He had to keep working. He needed to find a way to keep making money ― they didn’t know about the bar, he could still go to the bar and work. He. . . he didn’t have to be in debt to Principal Davis.

Caelum worked for several hours. Whenever he heard a creak in the hall, he jumped, his shoulders tensing. His father seemed to calm down. Neither he, nor his mother, entered his room again. Caelum still couldn’t be sure. His father could jump in at any moment. He didn’t finish his work until nearly 1 AM. He still had to go to the bar. He needed _some way_ to make money.

He heard the tapping on his window, and his pencil fell out of his hand. He couldn’t talk to Peter yet, he was still a mess.

Caelum stumbled from his desk to look in his mirror. He cringed at the sight of himself. His lip was cut open, his right eye was swollen shut, and his cheek bruised. Blood was dried under his nose, and when he opened his mouth, his teeth and tongue were coated with the same substance. It still hurt to breath and twist. He might have bruised a rib or two. If Peter saw him like this. . . Caelum didn’t know what he might do.

The tapping sounded again, and Caelum quickly turned off the lights and grabbed his notebook. He quickly scrawled a note down, and pressed it to the glass of the window, keeping himself out of sight.

_Can’t come right now. Go home._

  
“ _Cael_?” Peter’s muffled voice replied, “Is everything alright?” Caelum moved, his hand pointing to the message. “Is. . . is that _blood_ on your hand?” Caelum froze. Then, he dropped the notebook and moved back. “ _Caelum_! Caelum, open the window!” He was too loud ― his dad might hear him. Did he think he might sneak out? If he saw Caelum and Peter, if he knew they were close. . .

He heard Peter bang on the window again, and then there a door open down the hall. Caelum went back to the window, pushing up the rusty hinges. He never thought the sounds of the city could be so _loud_. “ _Please_ , Peter! Please leave.”

“Caelum. . . oh, _god_ , what happened to your face?!”

“Peter, _please_ ,” Caelum begged, his heart hammering. So much shit happening in less than six hours, he didn't want to add him to it. “Go home, please.”

“Let me in,” Peter ordered, pushing his fingers under the window. Caelum tried his hardest to keep it closed.

The door opened, and Caelum turned around, his eyes wide. His father and mother were standing in the threshold, “Wait, _no_ ―!”

He tried to wonder what that looked like to them. Their second oldest child trying to climb out the window after being severely punished. Did they think he was going to go to the police? Did they see the dark shadow of Peter's body against his curtains? He couldn't turn around, and be sure. Caelum hoped the boy had ducked down, or hid, or went back home. 

“So, you think you’re going to just run away, huh?” His father accused and Caelum felt a chill sweep down his spine. He knew immediately that this lost all hope of ending well.

“No, I―” He tried to explain, but he would rather die than give Peter up. He didn't get the chance.

“Where did you think you’d go?” His father hissed, cutting him off and advancing on him. He yanked his hands away from the window, that Caelum had subconsciously moved to hold unto, in some hope to keep himself grounded. He threw him on the ground. “Where were you going to go? _Huh_?” His foot found Caelum’s chest, again and again, emphasising each syllable. Everything started to hurt at once again.

Caelum tried to stand, using his forearms to hold himself up. Blood slipped out of his mouth when he opened it to speak. “I wasn’t ― I wasn’t trying to leave, please, I wasn’t―”

“ _Shut_ _up_!” Caelum closed his eyes, breathing quickly. “You want to go outside? _Fine_!” His father dragged him by the arm, and his sides burned in pain.

Caelum thought he was going to die. He genuinely thought his father would murder him. Drag him to the back alley and beat the life out of his body. Caelum didn't want to die, he still had so much he didn't get to do. He still had a life he wanted to live.

He still wanted to kiss Peter — just once.

“ _Justice_ ,” His mother spoke up, but his father glared at her too. She stepped back, looking away.

“Mom,” Caelum begged helplessly as his father pulled him out of the room. He dragged him down the hall, and unbolted the door. “Please, _Mom_!” His mother just stared, unmoving, too stunned by her husband's actions to respond, to help.

“You want to be like your sister? _Fine_! Don’t come back here,” His father hissed, tossing him out the door and slamming it behind him.

“ _Mom_! _Please_!” Caelum begged, getting to his feet, wanting her to hold him just once. Wanting her to save him from the wrath of his father. Didn't she love him? Didn't she care about him?

Wasn't he her son?

Caelum felt tears come down his face. This couldn’t be happening ― this isn't happening. His mom wouldn’t allow it, his mom _loved_ him. He could hear them talking inside. His mother _wasn’t_ happy, but his father was even worse.

Caelum wanted to move, but his chest felt like it was on fire every time he took in a breath. He dawned on him that the door wasn't opening again. His father wasn't letting him back in the house, not if he could help it.

Caelum was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe
> 
> See y'all Sunday lol


	14. - 14 -

**chapter fourteen:**

  
The sound of the door slamming rang in his ears. He couldn't seem to get rid of it. The shouting had subsided, leaving him in the cold, dank hallway, shivering on the floor. He leaned against the door, maybe his mother would let him back in. Maybe they'd give him a second chance.

It was a stupid thought. They didn't give his sister a second chance. He was no different. He was no better. He was just as dead to them as she was.

Caelum heard footsteps come up the stone steps. A familiar head of mousy brown hair that seemed bigger in the shadows of the hall. Peter had come. It made Caelum wonder just how long he had been sitting in this hallway.

"Caelum," Peter said gently. "Let's go, you can sleep at my place." He stepped forward tentatively, "We can go to my floor, come on."

"M. . . My mom," Caelum said softly. She was still in there. Would his father hit her like he did him? "She. . . my mom," his voice cracked, and his mind kept going back and forth, seemingly unable to snag on one coherent thought. As a result, his sentences were short and humbled.

Caelum felt his shoulders shake and he winced, inhaling. Peter grabbed his hand, and wrapped it around his shoulder. It didn't help much, Caelum was practically deadweight, almost unable to walk. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go. Peter was helping him, he was taking him to his apartment.

Peter stumbled down the steps, but managed to not fall right on his face. They got to his floor and May Parker stood there. She had a floral robe on and curlers in her hair. Yet, there was a fierce, determined look on her face as she held the door open allowing them stumbled through. She looked so much like Peter.

Peter laid him on the couch, and Caelum hissed on the impact, curling in on himself. That only made his pain worse, however. "Peter, get the first aid kit," May ordered, locking the door and bolting it. Then, for extra measure, she put a chair underneath the doorknob. She hurried over to Caelum, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Hey sweetie, don't move, alright?" Caelum shuddered, breathing hard.

"My–My mom," he breathed. He couldn't get her out of his mind. The stunned look, her gaping mouth. "My mom." Was she okay? Were the boys okay?

"It's okay," She insisted. "She's–She's fine, just don't move."

"I. . . my mom," Caelum couldn't think to say anything else. Everything hurt so bad. He squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. He was so tired. He had to finish his work. He had to. . . his mom was still up there. And, his brothers. His mom loved him. She would come for him. His mom. . . his mom. . .

"Move your hands, Cael," Peter breathed, and Caelum shook his head, it hurt. He had to finish his work. "Cael, c'mon man. May ― she _has_ to see your ribs."

"No. . . it _hurts_ ," he whined, and Peter nodded.

"I know," he said. "But it's–it's gonna hurt _worse_ if you don't let her see."

"My mom," he whispered. "She. . . my mom. . ."

"Caelum, c'mon," Peter touched his hands, and Caelum shuddered. He was so warm. Caelum was freezing and Peter was so warm. "Can you see?"

"I can try," May admitted, and pulled up his shirt. " _Oh_. . ."

"Mom," Caelum moaned. He wanted his mother. He didn't want her to go. She was a doctor, she could help.

Someone squeezed his hands, he was warm. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"We need to call 9-1-1," May said and Caelum jolted.

" _No_!" He moved away, as if he could wiggle from two able-bodied people. He _couldn't_ go to the hospital, he didn't have _money_. "I don't. . . I don't have _money_ , I can't ― _no_ , I can't―"

"Peter, get the phone," May ordered, and Caelum shook his head. He'd have money to pay for the doctors. He would be in his debt forever. He couldn't do that to himself. And, he couldn't go back to work, his dad would kill him if he did.

Caelum moved, trying to get off the couch. He _had_ to leave ― he _had_ to get away. He couldn't let them take him to the hospital. "Stop moving!" May commanded, and Caelum looked up at her with his one eye, and blinked.

He was in her body, but he was disoriented, nothing felt right at all. He stumbled back, his side knocking into the coffee table. " _May_!" Peter said, and Caelum looked back at his eyes, going back to his body.

Caelum hissed, rolling off the couch and onto the ground. He fall felt like he fell off a building, and the impact was worse. He gasped, hugging his chest, tears pricking his eyes, " _Cael_!" Peter grabbed his shoulders, trying to put him back on the couch.

"Get _off_ me!" He hissed, but his words were beginning to slur together. His eyes rolling, unable to decide where they wanted to look. Peter had the house phone in one hand, Caelum in the other.

" _Sir_?" A voice from the phone said. " _Sir? Are you still there_?"

"Yes, I–I need an ambulance!" Peter said, "Please, I―!"

" _I need you to calm down, sir_ ," Caelum tried to shake his head, to vocalize him saying ' _no_ ', but Peter didn't listen ― that or he didn't realize he was shaking his head and not trying to snap his own neck. " _What is your address_?"

"I can't. . . I don't have money," Caelum insisted, sweat beading down his head, but Peter was too busy rattling off his address. Caelum moved to reach for the phone, but Peter moved away. He didn't have to. As soon as Caelum leaned to reach for it, his chest painfully reminded him that it was not okay.

" _An ambulance is on its way. Could you please describe the situation? What happened_?"

Caelum tried to reach for the phone again, but Peter held it away from him further. "His father beat the shit out of him!"

"He–He didn't!" Caelum denied, his head bobbing up and down. Despite the obvious lie, Caelum grunted, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I'm _fine_!"

"' _Fine_ '!?" Peter let out a stunned scoff. "You look like you got run over by a _16-wheeler_."

"I can't afford to go," Caelum hissed, his pain bringing on a new level of crabbiness. He just wanted to sleep. " _Don't_ bring an ambulance, I can't―"

" _The ambulance will be there in five minutes_ ," the woman said. " _Please make sure your friend doesn't move._ "

" _There_! See, Ms. Nice Lady said to make sure you don't move," Peter smiled. "I think we should listen to her ― she sounds like she knows what she's doing."

" _Peter_ ," Caelum tried to be serious, he tried to make Peter see what was wrong. "I have no money ― don't bring them here, _please_. I don't have money." He tried to make Peter understand. Silly, _helpless_ Peter, who didn't have a single care in the world.

Caelum could hear them now, the ambulance's sirens coming down the street. With how early it was, it was no surprise  his easily and quickly they could come, the streets must be near empty and they lived near a hospital.

May stirred, his eyes fluttering open. " _What_. . .?" She turned to Peter and Caelum, remembering what was going on.

"Caelum, I don't _care_ if you're broke ― you're _not_ dying in my living room." The sirens blared outside the window ― surely, they had found the apartment already. "We'll figure something out. Are they here? Ms. Nice Lady, should we move him downstairs?"

" _No, stay where you are_ ," she instructed, and Peter nodded. May stood, moving to the door, and taking the chair out from underneath.

Caelum was still worried. He heard the knocking on the other side of the door, and May looked through the peephole before opening it.

Two large men wearing reflexive yellow-orange colours stepped inside. One of them took one look at Caelum and winced, drawing his eyebrows closer and his eyes softening. Did he look that bad? "Hello young man," he greeted, coming over to Caelum's side.

He had dirty blonde hair and steely gray eyes. Stubble lined his chin and jawline. He was quite handsome, and if Caelum hasn't been in so much pain, he would've been embarrassed. "We're going to help you get to the ER, alright?"

"I don't have money," Caelum said immediately, pushing away his pain to focus. It was hard, he kept a tight hold on his chest with one arm, as if it were keeping his guts together. He had more issues than just pretty first responders. "I can't–I can't afford to go, I can't―"

"Hey, don't worry about that, alright?" The man assured, smiling warmly. "What's your name?"

"Caelum," Peter answered for him when he stayed silent.

"Caelum, we're going to take you to the hospital, alright?"

"I don't want to go with you," Caelum tried, and Peter frowned down at him.

"How old are you, Caelum?" The other man asked. He looked a bit shorter than the first man and had darker hair with a brownish tan. He had a rugged look and a scar on the side of his cheek.

"Fif–Fifteen," Caelum breathed.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "Still a minor. You can't refuse help just yet. Are these your guardians?" Caelum shook his head. "Where are you parents?"

"Upstairs," Peter answered again. "His dad is the one who did this." Both of the men frowned, and Caelum for a moment, resented Peter's words. These men wouldn't let him leave now. He couldn't let them believe that, his father couldn't go to jail.

"He didn't," Caelum tried to lie. He breathed slowly, everything was hurting so bad.

"You gave yourself a black eye and," He gently touched Caelum's side. He hissed, gritting his teeth in pain, "Broke your ribs?"

"I―"

"Yeah, okay," the other man grunted, "Let's get you up."

The man moved under him, gently lifting him to his feet. Caelum cried out, but the other man supported his weight. "I know, I know, it hurts. I know." He hissed, breathing heavily. "We need to get you to the elevator and downstairs, alright?" Caelum nodded mutely, focusing on breathing. His partner came to Caelum's other side, and together they took him from Peter's apartment.

Caelum was shaking, he kept looking around — he couldn't help it. His father must've hear the ambulance's sirens. He knew someone called the police. He could be coming out at any second. Caelum had work to do, he didn't want to disappoint his father anymore. He also didn't think he'd survive another beating.

"Hey, Caelum," one of the paramedics said, as they led him to the elevator. "It's going to be okay, alright? Can you tell me if your father is still in the building?" Caelum nodded. "Did he know you were in your friend's apartment?"

"I. . . I don't know," Caelum admitted. "I–I can't go, I have to stay. I have ― I have to finish my work." The elevator jolted to a stop when it reached the bottom, and Caelum stumbled. The paramedic grabbed him and steadied him again.

"Don't worry about that right now," he assured as the doors opened. "I'm going to call my friend over and he's going to help you onto the gurney, okay?" Caelum looked past the doors, seeing his father in the lobby, fuming.

Caelum moved back immediately, his gut twisting and his eyes going wide. His father saw him, and his eyes narrowed. "You called these people!?" His father demanded, advancing on Caelum.

"I–I didn't―" Caelum's heart was pounding in his ears. "I tried―I tried to tell them not to, I tried―" The fear crept on him like a vine up a tree. He wanted to run but he could hardly keep himself up. He also wanted to see his mom and brothers, he knew he couldn't disobey his father.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back," the man said.

"That's my _son_ ," his father growled.

"If that's true, then he's currently sporting several injuries. A witness claims that you are the one that did this. Are you _admitting_ to assaulting a minor?" His father glared at the man holding Caelum steady.

"Get over here," his voice was low, and Caelum tried to move away from the paramedics, but they didn't let go of him. This resulted in him stumbling awkwardly, his legs moving but his upper body staying still.

"Come on," the man said to his partner. He looked across the lobby where a younger man was watching the scene unfold. "Alex, call the police." Alex didn't need to be told twice. He pulled a device out from his belt and began to speak rapidly.

"Let go of my son! Algol, get _over_ here!" His father was shouting, trying to reach for Caelum. The paramedics moved, getting him to the ambulance as fast as they could without damaging Caelum further. His father was right behind him, and Caelum turned his neck to keep his eyes on the man.

For a brief moment, the back of his neck tingled. Caelum could possess him. But, he remembered what happened with May when he did, would the same happen with his father?

With his mind lost in thought, panic, and pain, he forgot the threat of his advancing father. His fingers seized around Caelum's wrist tight, his dull nails piercing his skin. Then, he yanked.

Caelum slipped from the two men's grasp like a fish out of water and he fall back. He back hit the ground and immediately he began to scream in absolute agony. The pain was destabilizing, as if someone had pressed a scalding iron on his ribs. He felt like they were collapsing in on itself.

And, of course, father didn't care at all. He kept dragging him away, spouting curses Caelum couldn't make out in his state. God, everything _burned_. Caelum breathed labouredly, his eyes slipping closed, and he writhed on the ground. He coughed, and blood shot from his lips.

He felt someone yank his besieged wrist out of his father's hand. He hear grunting and shouting, but didn't quite process it. Everything hurt. Everything was on fire. "Hey, _Caelum_ , hey," the paramedic said, coming to his side. "Look at me, alright? Look at me." Caelum couldn't do it. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if to hide from the pain, and choked out a sob. It hurt so much. He was going to _die_.

"I know it hurts," he said, trying to provide comfort through Caelum's gasped sobs. "Alex and I, we're going to lift you up, alright? Can you give me a thumbs up if you understood that?" Caelum tried to breathe, but he felt like something was stuck in his throat, blocking his airway.  "Caelum? Did you hear what I said?"

Slowly, Caelum made a thumbs up. "Good. _Great_ , alrighty then. On the count of three, ready? _One. . . two. . . three_." The two men lifted Caelum, and he inhaled, trying to breathe. He squirmed, his arms shaking, moving _up, up, up_. Something was choking him, he _had_ to get it off.

The paramedics were speaking rapidly, "Get me a syringe. Cut off his shirt. _Daniel_! We need to get him to the ER!"

Caelum felt the sharp pricks of the wind biting against his exposed skin as he was rushed into the vehicle. He couldn't breathe. He grasped his throat, gasping soundlessly. He couldn't _breathe_!

"This is going to hurt," someone muttered before something sharp pricked into his chest. Caelum gasped, his eyes rolling into his head. He heard them say, "There we go. . . deep breaths. . ." before everything went silent.


	15. - 15 -

** chapter fifteen: **

  
When Caelum woke back up, he heard the steady mechanical beep of a heartbeat. He tried to move, but a sharp pain immediately bit into his chest. Caelum gasped, clutching his ribs, his arms shaking.

“Cael?” Caelum looked over. Peter was in a chair beside him. He stood, leaning over Caelum, inspecting his face. “Are you awake?”

“Y. . . Yes,” Caelum murmured, rubbing his eyes. Peter let out an exhaustive sigh, falling back on his chair. He moved to the small remote and pressed the button Caelum recognized as the remote.

Meanwhile, he was talking a mile a minute. “It’s been nearly a _day_ , Cael. The doctors thought you were going to die ― your lung collapsed, you came here with a needle in your chest. They said one of your ribs punctured it when your. . . your dad pulled you away. It’s no wonder you were in so much pain, by the way, you broke two ribs and fractured three more. They also said that you had a minor fracture in your hand, and your nose had been broken for a while.” Caelum didn’t say anything for a while, letting the words soak in. Fractured rib, broken nose, he’d _never_ be able to go back to work.

The door opened, and a blonde, black woman stepped through, “Peter if this is another false alarm, then _so help me_ ―” She stopped, realizing that Caelum was actually awake. “ _Oh_! You’re actually awake.” She moved quickly, “My name is Melissa, I need to check your vitals, and then we’ll call the doctor, is that alright Caelum?”

“Where’s. . . my father?” Caelum asked, his eyes narrowed. His head felt a bit fuzzy, Caelum assumed that had to have been the drugs they had him on. They were doing their job, the pain wasn't as bad as when he fainted.

She frowned, “He’s with the police. . . for questioning,” Caelum’s eyes widened. “You showed serious signs of domestic abuse, Caelum.”

“He didn’t do it,” Caelum said immediately.

“ _Cael_ ―!” Peter interjected.

“You _can’t_ put him in prison,” Caelum continued. “He didn’t do anything. Tell them that, he’s innocent, he can’t go to jail!”

“I need you to calm down for me, alright?” Melissa said, “Let’s focus on _you_ for now. How does the chest feel?”

Caelum frowned, but did calm down like she said. “. . . It hurts,” he finally stated, which was equivalent to say that the sun was hot. “I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.” She rose an eyebrow, obviously not believing this one bit. “Can I go? I _need_ to go home.”

“I admire your resilience, Caelum,” Melissa admitted, putting her hands on her hips, sternly. She looked like a mother explaining why she was disciplining a child. Caelum had gone through enough of that for a while. “But you can hardly sit up, much less walk several blocks to your house.”

“I don’t have money to pay for this,” Caelum insisted. Every second spent here was another three _days_ he’d have to spend full time at the shop. “I have to go home.” Caelum tried to move, but Peter pushed him back down ― thankfully, being extra careful of his broken ribs.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” he said seriously. Caelum frowned at the boy, annoyed. “Let Melissa take care of you. You don’t have to worry about everything.”

Caelum opened his mouth to protest, or to say something snarky in response. On the contrary, he had to worry about _everything_. However, he didn't get the chance to say this. Melissa pressed a stethoscope to his chest. “Breathe for me,” she ordered.

“I―”

“ _Inhale_ ,” she said, nudging his leg. Caelum did as she told him, inhaling. This was a bad idea. With the screaming and the blood still stubbornly in his lungs, his sternum was probably inflamed.

He turned, and began to cough, blood spattering his hand. “Keep coughing. Get it all out,” Melissa said, handing him a tissue box. Caelum dutifully took it, wiping his mouth. Melissa asked him a few more things pertaining to his health — and Caelum replied by minimalizing his pain as much as possible — before putting his clipboard back on the side of his monitor. “Alright, I’ll call Doctor Waine in here.”

Caelum closed his eyes, deciding it was no use to complain now. “I'll be right back. Don't let him move.” Peter nodded and Melissa smiled softly turning from the room.

As soon as the door closed, Caelum tried to get up. His chest burned in pain when he moved, but Caelum ignored it. “ _Cael_!" Peter whined, as if he had broken a vase. "She just said _not_ to move!”

“I. . . I can't. . .” he hissed through clenched teeth. “ _Afford_. I can't. . . I can't _pay_ for this. . .” Caelum tried to swing his legs around, gripping the hospital bar for dear life. Peter ran over, grabbing his shoulders and trying to put him back down. Caelum wobbled his balance faltering.

“You won't have to pay,” Peter insisted. “Lay back down, you don't have to pay any bills.”

Caelum shook his head defiantly. The door opened back up, and an older man stepped through. He had black, greying hair, and a sharp beard. He had dark matching eyes and was a lean for his age. He immediately recognized the situation and came to Peter's side. “You're not going anywhere, young man,” he chided, his voice low and warm. Caelum wondered if he was a dad.

Caelum shook his head, “I can't stay here.” it wasn't a suggestion, despite what everyone seemed to think — and _believe_.

“It is in your best interests to.” Caelum arms shook trying to hold himself up.

Peter noticed, “C'mon Cael, listen to them.” Caelum swallowed, his eyes darting between the two before he slowly went back to the bed.

“ _Good_ ,” The doctor smiled. “I'm Doctor Waine. Your friend here says your name is Caelum, is that true?” Caelum nodded. “Well, Caelum, it's a miracle you're alive.” He said with a small chuckle. “You probably won't be going home anytime soon. It's in our best interests that you make a full recovery and to find out what happened. Would you be willing to speak to a police officer?”

“No,” Caelum said immediately. “My father is innocent. He didn't do this. Tell the police that — he's _innocent_!”

“ _Caelum_ ,” the doctor said calmly. “His knuckles were bruised and you had his skin under your nails. Is this the first time he hit you?”

“No, I. . . he didn't. . . he didn't hit me.”

“Caelum, I have reason to believe you're lying.” Caelum stiffened, hearing his father in the back of his head.

_“Don't lie to me no more!”_

“I'm not lying,” he persisted.

Doctor Waine frowned, but rose from his seat. “I think you should rest for a while, alright? We'll do more examinations on your ribs and lungs when you feel better.

“I have to go to school,” Caelum said. “I have to―”

“I don't think you should worry about that right now,” the doctor said. “Sleep for a bit. I'll be back later.” He gave Caelum's knee a gentle pat before standing and leaving the room.

The door closed and Peter turned to look at him. “Why do you keep saying that?”

Caelum pressed his lips together, how would Peter understand this? How could he when in his eyes, the world was black and white. “Because," Caelum explained slowly, picking through what to say and what to keep silent. "If my father goes to jail I'll have to drop out of school to help support my family. My mom will be devastated. It's not fair.”

“But he _did_ this,” Peter motioned to Caelum's rather pitiful state. “He _hurt_ you ― you nearly _died_ , Cael!”

“And I'll do it again,” Caelum snapped, annoyance seizing him. “I don't _care_ if I have to take a few beatings. As long as my father stays out if jail, I don't mind.” Caelum glanced over at the window. The sun was still reasonably high, probably around noon. “You should go to school,” he finally said and Peter scoffed.

“No way! I can't leave you here.”

“Parker,” Caelum sighed, but Peter was adamant.

He shifted in his seat, fiddling with something in the pocket of his jeans. “How did this happen anyway?” Peter asked, changing the subject. “Your dad. . . he said you weren't doing your work? That's _all_ you ever do, though.”

Caelum swallowed, looking down. He wouldn’t tell a police officer, that would be a surefire way to get his father convicted, but he trusted Peter. And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed someone to talk to. “Principal Davis came to my house,” Peter stared, his jaw dropping. “We had dinner and he let it slip that I was on the partial scholarship. I. . . I told them that you had the partial and I had the full one. My father found out and. . . well, you saw how that went.”

“He did this because you didn't have the full scholarship?”

“Not exactly,” Caelum admitted. “I might have lied about a few other things.”

“ _Cael_ ,” Peter groaned, shaking his head.

“Everything was _fine_!” Caelum insisted. “My father, he didn't know, and that kept me alive.”

“Cael, you _lied_ to them,” Peter insisted.

“I had no other _choice_!” Caelum insisted, “I had to pay for the scholarship, and they didn't know it was partial." He shook his head as he recalled the events. "My father said I had to take the full scholarship from _you_.”

“That's not possible,” Peter frowned and Caelum nodded.

“ _Exactly_ ,” he said. “I don't know what I'm going to do, now.” Caelum rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. Between this hospital visit and the last, it would take divine intervention to get him back on track education-wise.

He needed to plan if his father was actually put away. Where would his family go? His mother’s family was in France, but his brother’s had passports. He’d have to find the money to move them back, if his father’s family didn’t take them in. How much would that be? Caelum couldn’t possibly pay for it himself, maybe his mother would be able to help out.

It would be really good if his father’s family took his mother and his brothers in. They liked his mother ― at least from what he’s seen. His mother could live there for awhile, at least until they found a way to get them better, permanent housing. He’d have to get another job ― hell, he’d have to drop out of school. He wouldn’t possibly have a chance to finish his education under these circumstances.

“Cael?” He turned, looking at Peter. “You have your thinking face on,” he said with a small smile. Caelum shook his head, his smile was contagious, but he didn’t have time to sit here laughing with Peter.

“You should leave,” Caelum suggested again. “I’m not going to die just yet.”

“ _No_ ,” Peter agreed. “But, I also don’t trust you to not leave your bed. So,” He kicked his feet back, leaning over the side of the chair.

Caelum watched him, he could see his muscles pull against the shirt, his pants stretching with his legs crossed over the chair the way it was. He was smiling again, Caelum couldn’t take that smile, it tempted him to do things he wouldn’t usually do ― like lie to his parents and go shopping.

“I’m staying here," Peter announced valiantly. "I’ll keep you company," he smirked, "What are you thinking about?”

“ _You_ ,” Caelum breathed, and then immediately caught himself. “I mean, your _scholarship_. You can’t keep missing days like this. . . you might get kicked out of Midtown.”

Peter pouted, and Caelum immediately looked away. “I want to be here for you. I can’t do that sitting in a classroom. Are you really thinking about dropping out of school?”

Caelum was glad for the change of subject. He looked at the ceiling ― bland, with white tiles. Nothing to tempt him into kissing Peter, nothing to make his heart ache. “It’s a possibility. My mother, she may not be able to sustain all three of us on her own, at least not in the apartment we’re in now. We may to move. I’ll work fulltime, give the scholarship to some other kid. I can finish my schooling online, or just ‘ _homeschool_ ’ myself. It wouldn’t be difficult, I don’t believe. I think Harlem has cheaper housing, enough for my mom and I to pay rent every month, at least. I’d get another job, depending on where we go. Or, my mother can take my brothers upstate with my father’s family. They’ll live with them until we can figure out a solution.”

“Either way, you’d have to drop out?” Peter asked, frowning. “If your dad’s put in jail?”

“ _Yes_.” There was no way around that, he was the oldest now, since the ghost wasn't with them anymore. He had to help his mother any way he could.

“But, if your dad comes back, this,” He motioned to Caelum’s broken state. “It’ll keep happening.”

“But, my family will have a roof over their head,” Caelum said. “My brothers will be happy. My mom can stay where she works. We can’t do any of that if he’s in jail.”

“Cael, that’s not healthy,” Peter begged. “You could _die_.”

“But my family will be safe,” Caelum tried to shrug, but winced, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t _care_ , as long as they’re safe.”

“But what about _you_ ,” Peter insisted.

“I just answered that,” Caelum shook his head. “Parker, this is getting repetitive. I can’t keep arguing this with you. It isn’t your problem, to be frank. Why do you care so much?”

“You’re my friend, Cael,” Peter insisted, and Caelum rolled his eyes.

“I appreciate your help, but I don’t need it. I’m fine ― I’ll _be_ fine.”

Peter watched him, his mouth pressed in a firm line. He looked like he was mentally debating something. Finally, he stood, putting his hands in his pockets, his fingers fiddling with something again. “Alright,” he said, leaning forward and pressing the nurse-call button on the remote. “I’ll be back, Melissa can come watch you.”

Caelum eyed the boy suspiciously as he stood, going for the door. “Parker?” He looked up at him, and Caelum felt the familiar tingling. He didn’t want to possess him, though. Peter turned, scratching his neck, his brow furrowing. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, looking at him. “That paramedic ― his name’s Daniel ― he beat your dad up. Broke his nose. He’s still good, though.” Peter gave him a half-smile before leaving.

Caelum frowned as he left, his eyes narrowed. That _smile_ , that was how he knew Peter had lied to him.


	16. - 16 -

**chapter sixteen:**

  
Despite being subjected to bedrest for the next few weeks, and giving as minimal movement as possible, Caelum tried his hardest to get as much schoolwork done so he wouldn’t get behind on his work. It was hard since he couldn’t exactly twist or move without causing extreme pains in his side. But, Caelum worked anyway, stubbornly ignoring the pains that burned and ached in his sides for hours afterwards.

Melissa realized and tried to get him to stop doing the work, but Caelum refused. It would be a cold day in hell when he put off doing schoolwork for some petty reason like ‘ _pain_ ’ ― even though he was in a lot of it. She tried to get Peter get to him to stop, but there was nothing Peter could do either.

Peter didn’t visit very much after his first visit. Caelum assumed he had homework and school to deal with ― it was reasonable. And, the decathlon team would be going to districts soon, he would unfortunately have to miss out on it due to his condition. Peter was under a bit of pressure and Caelum was sympathetic ― he could relate to pressure.

His mother had yet to visit as well, despite Caelum trying to contact her and his brothers. Nobody responded ― which was beginning to scare him. He didn’t know what was going on with his father. He knew they could only keep him in custody for 48 hours, Caelum also knew they might be reluctant to get a lawyer. Caelum didn’t blame them ― he repeatedly expressed that he wasn’t planning on pressing charges at all. And yet, there were no updates.

Caelum got bored easily, wasting away in the hospital room for hours. After a few days, he finally succumbed to temptation and turned on the television. He wasn’t lying when he told Peter that nearly all he watched was the news. Luckily, that was the first thing that came on when he pressed the on button.

Unluckily, it also happened to be the _Daily Bugle_. “ _If we continue to tolerate webbed imbeciles flying around our city, we’ll end up being no better than the sicko who destroyed it!_ ” J. Jonah Jameson raved on, and Caelum rolled his eyes.

All the _Daily Bugle_ seemed to be talking about what Spider-Man _this_ and Spider-Man _that_. Caelum suspected that they were using the so called ‘ _Webbed Imbecile_ ’ to distract their viewers from other important news ― like _Sokovia_ , which only happened a few months before. The Avengers were doing all they could to help rebuild the city ― and by that, Caelum meant that Tony Stark, the infamous Iron Man sent out a few ‘ _not-so-bloodthirsty_ ’ suits to go clean up their messes while they went to celebrate.

Caelum vaguely wondered if they were all up in that Tower in the City. He wondered what they were thinking, if they even cared for the thousands of lives lost and even more affected by the catastrophe?

Caelum shook his head, this was why he didn’t watch the _Daily Bugle_ , most of it was crap and it only made him angry. The only thing that did seem to be vaguely interesting was Spider-Man, who was back at it again, helping the little people and doing good.

Caelum wondered what it had to be like. He had a peculiarity now, too. He could use it for good ― albeit, he didn’t know _how_ he would. But, to put himself out there, to go through the trouble of adopting a mask and fighting crime on a daily? Well, Caelum already had enough on his plate. Besides, if he wasn’t getting any money from it, he wouldn’t put himself out there to do it.

He sighed, leaning back in his bed. Sitting here was going to kill him with bored-ness ― but leaving would probably kill him too. Melissa would, at least, and Peter, if he found out what Caelum attempted.

He sighed, closing his eyes. He wasn’t tired, and all of his dreams ― when he dreamed ― always was filled with his father’s rage and anger displayed on his face or Principal Davis. Caelum didn’t like it at all, and he didn’t fancy nightmares either.

Caelum frowned again, and the door opened. He expected Peter to walk in, he usually did around this time if he came. He would bring his schoolwork and they talk for a few hours.

He didn’t expect Doctor Waine to step in. Or, at least, he didn’t expect the two police officers behind him.

Caelum sat up ― as best as he could, at least ― but Doctor Waine waved a hand. “Lay back down,” he scolded, and Caelum did as he was told, breathing a little. “I just wanted to bring Officer Black here. They wanted to personally thank you for the statement you gave.” Caelum frowned, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I know it had to have been difficult for you,” the man who Caelum assumed was Officer Black ― at least from his nametag, and introduction. “You were very adamant about keeping your father in a good light. Nobody else was speaking up, so with this, we can finally put him away―”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Caelum asked, looking between the three men. “I never gave a statement. I clearly stated that my father was _innocent_.”

The police man beside Officer Black frowned. He had a name tag that said ‘ _Murphy_ ’. “You friend said otherwise, son. He brought in an audio recording of your testimony.” Caelum stared, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide.

“It’s a _fake_!” He snarled, “You can’t use it!”

“It’s too late, it’s already been sent off as evidence and your father admitted that _that_ was what happened,” Officer Black said. Caelum looked down at his bed, his hands on his head. Peter wouldn’t ― Caelum told him what would happen if his father wasn’t let out of jail! Peter _wouldn’t_! He _knew_! Caelum _trusted_ him and he _knew_!!

“Caelum, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down,” Doctor Waine said, coming up to him. Caelum turned his head towards him and in a fit of rage and frustration, he snapped.

“Get _away_ from me!” He screamed, feeling the back of his neck burn. Caelum was possessing the doctor without him even realizing. When he noticed that he was in the man’s body and not his own, he immediately reacted.

He went off, throwing things off the counter in Doctor Waine’s body, sliding down the wall and screaming. He _trusted_ Peter! He let his annoying, stupid, insignificant, _shitty_ feelings get in the way of rational thought!

“Doctor. . .?” Both men were looking at him, at Caelum’s sudden breakdown in Doctor Waine’s body. Caelum looked up at Officer Black, and blinked, possessing him.

He turned Officer Black’s partner, his face drawn into a snarled. “Don’t worry about it.” His partner drew his eyes from Doctor Waine to him, confused and shocked.

Caelum possessed him, and waited, glaring at the two other dazed-looking men, not quite away but not quite here either. This was Peter’s fault. Peter, the boy he trusted, the boy he _loved_ , had caused this. He’d have to drop out of school ― Principal Davis would not be happy at all, but at this point, Caelum didn’t care. He needed to make sure his mother and brothers would be okay. He needed a new place to live ― he’d ask Mr. Hills if he could crash in the rooms above his bar. Usually, drunk customers spent the night there, or Mr. Hills stayed when he was too tired to drive home.

He would need to pay for rent for himself and his mother. Whatever money his father had would probably go towards that ― if he was allowed to manage it. He could always do it in his mother’s name.

Caelum felt the back of his neck burn, and looked back at his body, blinking. In the same second he was comfortably back in his own mind, the three bodies of the men he was inhabiting fell to the ground, Officer Murphy had been foaming a bit at the mouth.

The door opened and Caelum dazedly turned to her, his head was hurting a little after inhabiting someone for so long. “What going― _whoa_!” The nurse standing at the door exclaimed, shocked.

“They just fell,” Caelum said, trying to sound sincere, but all that came out was that monotone comment. The nurse was calling for back-up, but Caelum wasn’t listening. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for when Peter came again ― if he did at all. He had a lot to say to him.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
A half of a week later, Caelum was released on crutches with the distinct orders to not do any ‘ _heavy lifting_ ’. Doctor Waine and the two officers were fine. His morphine had burst and seeped into the air, causing the reaction of all three men to faint. Nobody remembered that Caelum was still conscious and well during it, they didn’t need to.

Caelum went back to his apartment, packing whatever he needed into one of the suitcases. The boys stood at his door the entire time ― it was MLK Day apparently. “Where are you going?” Pollux asked.

“Why are you packing your stuff?”

“Does Mommy know?”

“Can we come too?”

“When’s Dad coming home?”

“How’d you get back from the hospital?”

“Are you going to―?”

“ _Quiet_!” Caelum snapped, and both boys went quiet, but looked at him pointedly, waiting for answers to their several questions. “I’m heading out for a while. Tell mom to use whatever’s left in Dad’s account to pay for rent and necessities. I’m going to work―”

“You still have a job!?” They both said in unison.

“I said, be quiet,” he narrowed his eyes at them. Caelum sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll be back,” that was a lie. “Don’t worry.” Caelum glanced at the desk, remembering the plastic bag of christmas presents. He completely neglected giving them out on Christmas in lieu of doing homework. He didn’t receive anything this year, he realized. He didn’t care, but he forgot about his brother’s presents. He also forgot to wrap them.

Caelum stepped over to the desk, taking the bag out and fishing through it to find the matching transformers. He handed them to Castor and Pollux separately. “This was for Christmas.”

“It’s _January_ ,” Castor commented dryly.

“Do they go together?” Pollux asked, excited. He grabbed Castor’s toy ― who gave a shout of alarm before the two were wrestling for the toys.

Caelum shook his head, and finished packing his suitcase. He packed the necessities, money, clothes, layers for the snow, a few books, and Peter’s lego spaceship.

Caelum was about to leave, when he noticed something sticking out of the plastic bag. He stopped, glancing at it, before absent-mindedly grabbing it and leaving the room. He shooed the two boys out of his cleaned, emptied room, closing the door behind them.

Caelum walked out of the house, leaving behind him a blue, teddy bear for the ghost at the kitchen table, and a note for his mother beside it.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum went to Mr. Hill’s bar first. He explained his situation to the man, who nodded along in earnest. “Ya see,” He murmured, scratching at his chin. “Ya can crash ‘ere for a few days, but the rent’s $150 a week, $25 a night.” Caelum winced, wavering a little on his crutches. Mr. Hill sighed, “But. . . you can do $100 a week, $15 a night ― at least, until you can. . . get back on your feet.”

“I can still work,” Caelum said. If he didn’t, he would be losing a significant amount of money, he had to do something, he needed to make money.

“Not in tha’ condition, boy,” Mr. Hills frowned. Caelum, for his part, tried to stand a bit taller on his crutches. “It’d be a _sin_ to put ya to work when ya lookin’ tha’ pitiful.” Caelum tried not to show his humiliation on his face. Instead, he breathed, taking assessment of the situation. He would be able to work in a few days. He would be able to make money and send it back to his mom.

He agreed to resting, and paid Mr. Hills whatever he had on hand for the night. When he finally managed to get up the steps, he sat down on the rickety bed. The room was bare, with the exception of the bed and a radiator on the wall. It smelt vaguely of body odour and sex ― two very unsavoury combinations. Several stains of questionable fluids were on the covers and a few on the walls. The door’s lock was also shoddy, he could have pushed on it and it would break.

Caelum tried not to notice, he tried not to care. This was his life now. He dug himself in this shitty. . . Lice-ridden-sex-bed-hole, and now he was going to dig himself out.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his face. First things first, _financials_. Caelum would have to redo _everything_ in order to allocate him not spending his time and money at the school. Hopefully, if Mr. Goldson and Mr. Hills paid him properly, he’d be making a little under a thousand every other week. The rent was $1,500 per month and he knew the bills averaged around $300. The boys had things they needed to be paid for, and there was also the case of food for them as well.

Caelum worked on this for a few hours, mapping out each paycheck for the next several months. Whatever remained of his father’s money would cover his medical bills, and they would need to put away money to pay for his father’s bail, if he got bail.

This was going to be tight. Caelum bit the nails of his fingers, staring at the numbers before him. He couldn’t take breaks, he couldn’t get ‘ _hurt_ ’ anymore. Caelum couldn’t afford it ― his family couldn’t afford it. And, Caelum couldn’t afford Peter ― or at least, the temptation of him. Caelum didn’t have time for it, he didn’t have time for _him_.

Now, if Peter could take a hint, he would be set.


	17. - 17 -

** chapter seventeen: **

  
As soon as Caelum was able to get back on his feet, he was working again. It wasn’t financially stable for Mr. Goldson to pay him full time, so he was kindly advised through Austin to get another job. Caelum didn’t mind, he found a better paying job not far from the shop.

It was a small, deli/grocery ― which wasn’t hard to come by in the City ― called _Delmar Deli-Grocery_. It was almost like if Dollar Tree and Subway had an affair, but more friendly and homely. The owner, who everyone called _Delmar_ ― and who the store was named after ―  was a older, hispanic gentleman. He was a kind guy, after Caelum got to know him.

When Caelum asked if he was hiring, he immediately looked suspicious. “How old are you, kid?”

“Sixteen,” Caelum lied. He wouldn’t be sixteen until May, but he didn’t need to know that.

“D’you have working papers?” He asked. It was a law in New York that anyone under the age of 18 had to have a working permit, and have papers signed by a parent/guardian.

Luckily, Caelum could forge his father’s signature and was skilled in the art of B.S.-ing his way to get what he wanted.

He handed it to the man along with a pre-written resume he typed up at a local library since he didn’t have a computer at home that he could so easily use privately.

Delmar read over it, raising an eyebrow. “You went to _Midtown_? The private school?”

“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied. “I recently had to drop out due to home issues. My father. . . left us and my mom will need more hands around our house.”

Delmar raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s a very expensive school,” he noted, frowning. “And a lot of opportunities for kids like you come from there.”

“I am well aware,” Caelum replied, trying to keep an annoyed look off his face from the infernal school. God, he _hated_ that place. “I would continue my enrollment if issues hadn’t presented himself.” He paused for a minute, “My. . . family needs the money, and I can always return or homeschool myself. It is a loss, but not something I am unable to deal with.”

The biggest loss that came from dropping out of Midtown had been Peter. Despite Caelum’s anger and betrayal, he couldn’t keep himself mad for long. He _missed_ Peter, he missed his smile and his laughter and his twinkling brown eyes.

But, he couldn’t return home ― Principal Davis knew where he lived ― and he couldn’t go to school. This, working full-time, was his only other option. “I admire that,” Delmar admitted, nodding to himself. “Shame you had to drop out of such a good school, but I understand why.” He gave a half-hearted smile. “You a family man ― I respect that. A guy who cares about his family is a good man. I’m sorry about your old man.” He glanced down at the papers in his hand, seemingly deciding on what he wanted to do. “You start on Monday, kid.”

Caelum smiled and shook the man’s hand, “Thank you, sir,” He said, trying not to sound relieved.

“First order of business,” Delmar said, taking his hand and rubbing his arm with the other. “No more ‘ _sir_ ’s. I’m not that old ― call me Delmar.” Caelum did.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The first couple of weeks were trying, as Caelum tried to adjust to his new schedule. He’d wake up at 5:30 AM, go to the shop at six, leave at twelve. Then, he’d get to the Deli at one, and work until nine in the afternoon. Finally, he’d return to the bar, and start cleaning. He usually didn’t finish that until two AM. Afterwards, he’d get his financials together, make sure he was on track to help pay bills, before going to sleep. Then, he’d repeat.

On the weekends was when he got the least sleep. He wouldn’t be done at the bar until nearly four AM, or nearly five, which would make him get less than a half-hour of sleep, and cause the rest of the day to be sluggish and a blur.

Caelum tried to cope, he was well-versed in the art of all-nighters, and getting little to no sleep in several days. He had done it before in the past, and he could do it again. But, he wasn’t prepared for the type of exhaustion several hours of being on his feet brought. He was tired, in both body and mind. He had to be extra careful because he sometimes couldn’t control himself when he possessed people during this as well.

He could be walking down the street between 12 and 1 PM and accidentally look someone in the eye. Before he knew it, he was possessing them, and everything felt strange and awkward. This mostly happened on the subway as he was getting to where he needed to be, but it didn’t help at all.

Caelum decided to wear sunglasses when he was in public like this. He found out that extremely dark sunglasses stopped him from possessing people when he looked at them. He would still get the tingle on his neck, but he wouldn’t be inhabiting their body. It helped a lot, and caused him to focus a bit more.

It was well into February until Caelum had seen anyone he recognized from the school. He had been at the Deli, working through a lunchtime-rush. He called out orders, making sandwiches and ringing up customers easily. The people coming and going from the store had been mostly a blur of faces as he faked smiles when he asked about their days and delivered orders.

During this time, Delmar’s cat, Murph, who was usually found lounging along the tops of shelves or sitting quietly in the window, would come behind the counter and hide between the fridges. He didn’t like the constant foot-traffic, and the chatter of voices.

Caelum could sometimes feel the cat brush against his leg, and he would absentmindedly rub it fondly. Today, however, Murph jumped up on the counter as Caelum was taking a order.

“ _Oh_!” A woman said, surprised.

“Sorry.” Caelum said automatically.

“Oh, don't be ― I love cats,” she smiled and Caelum's nodded, smiling along. He took her awaiting credit card, swiping it.

The door jingled again as Caelum was bagging her sandwich. “Have a good day,” he said automatically, and she smiled in return, leaving as the next customer approached.

“Hey, Delmar!” The person who had just entered the store greeted. Caelum frowned as the man rattled his order to him, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey!? Are you listening to me?” The man snapped, annoyed. Caelum looked back, and gave a easy smile.

“My apologies, could you repeat that?” The man scowled for a minute, but repeated his order, and set his other items on the counter. A bag of chips and a pack of gum. Caelum mindless rung it up, listening closely to the conversation beside him.

“How have you been?” Delmar asked curiously as he worked, expertly wrapping a sandwich in deli paper.

“Good. School’s been fine. The teachers are nice, but the Principal doesn’t seem to like me much,” The new customer said. Caelum couldn’t get a good look at them, a woman was obscuring his view.

Caelum briefly possessed her, and made her turn around. In the middle-aged woman’s eyes, he stared at Peter Parker, leaning against the counter, talking to Delmar. Caelum went back to his body immediately, his mind racing. Why was he here? How did he know Delmar? How in the world could he manage to leave without them noticing?

A man snapped his fingers in his face, “Hey, kid! Get your head out the clouds for a minute, would you?” Caelum turned to the man, and was almost tempted to make him eat his own fingers. _Almost_.

“Sorry,” he murmured, swiping the card again, but it had been declined. “It’s declined.” The man narrowed his eyes at him.

“Swipe it again.” Not wanting to start a fight, he did. It was declined ― _again_. “I know that card’s got money on it ― your reader is broken!” Caelum stared at the man, his reader was. . . _broken_?

“Sir, your card is not working,” Caelum said, keeping his tone even. “Do you have an alternative method of payment?” The man went a bit red, and glared at Caelum. “If not, then you will not be able to purchase these items.” Caelum moved his hand over to grab at them, but the man snatched it away.

Caelum was fast. He looked at him in the eyes and blinked, possessing him. Then, he went through the man’s wallet, procuring a twenty dollar bill ― easily more than enough to pay for the food and leave a generous tip ― before looking back at his eyes and blinked.

“Thank you, sir,” Caelum gave a fake smile, which was dancing on the line bordering a sneer. “Would you like your receipt?”

“ _What_ ―?” The man looked at his wallet in his hand, then at Caelum, “You stole my money!”

“I did no such thing, sir,” Caelum replied innocently. “You just gave me a twenty dollar bill.”

“No, I―!” The man looked around, trying to find the bag, or his missing bill.

“If you don’t want your receipt, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to move. You’re holding up the line.” This was very true. The woman behind him looked annoyed, ready to pay for her granola bar and sweating water bottle now. The man was red in the face, anger brimming in him like a teapot. “Have a good day,” He looked around the man, “Next in line!”

The woman stepped forward, setting her things on the counter. Caelum moved the man’s chips over and began to serve her. He felt the man’s glare on him the entire time as he grabbed his food. He curled his lips to spit at him, but Caelum caught a glance his way. He possessed him, making him turn and leave the store. Only turning back so Caelum could go back to his body.

“Sorry about that, ma’am,” Caelum said after the awkward pause. The man looked a bit confused as to how he was suddenly on the sidewalk and not in the store. Caelum didn’t dwell on it. He began to ring her up. He was about to swipe her card when a certain nuisance slid in front of her.

“ _Cael_!?” Peter exclaimed, looking straight at him. “Where have you _been_ ― everyone at school thinks you’re dead! Why are you working here? What _happened_? Why haven’t you―”

“If you would _please_ ,” Caelum growled, glaring at the boy. He was embarrassed that he had to see him in a place like this. A small, irrational part of him screamed at him to quit, but he knew that that would be financially insufficient providing this job covered the majority of the rent. “Get in line like everyone else, I would be able to serve you then.”

“ _But_ ―!”

“Parker, don’t _make me_ repeat myself,” Caelum warned. Peter pouted and Caelum’s heart twisted painfully. God, he missed that pout, the way his brown eyes went round and his nose scrunched, annoyingly.

Caelum shook himself out of the abyss that was Peter, and returned to the woman, again. “I apologize,” he said, swiping her card. She simply smiled, looking back at the boy before turning to him.

She raised her hand as if she were telling him a secret, and then whispered, “Do you like him?” Caelum fumbled with his card at the sudden question, his face going hot, his eyes widening. She laughed as he picked her card off the ground, scratching his face.

“I. . . I don’t. . .” He swallowed hard. Out of all the lies he told, this was the hardest. “I don’t know why you may think that,” He said, his voice pitching a bit higher. He handed her her bag and her card. He glanced at the name before giving it to her. It read, _Luna Amaquelin_.

Luna pressed a finger to her mouth, “I won’t tell ― _promise_!” She thanked him, and turned to leave, glancing back at Caelum and Peter as she left the store.

Peter was in the back of the line, so Caelum tried to take his time with the rest of the customers, trying to think of ways he could get the boy to leave. However, when it was finally Peter’s turn, he still had no explanation or plan.

“Where have you been?” Peter demanded, staring right at him. Caelum felt the back of his neck tingle ― he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately. He looked away from Peter, trying to mask his discomfort with annoyance.

“My whereabouts aren’t your concern,” Caelum said flatly. “You aren’t my _mother_.”

“I’m your _friend_!”

“That is questionable as well,” Caelum said, remembering Peter’s betrayal. “You recorded my confession.” Peter froze, and rubbed the back of his head. “If you’re upset that I am working here and not at Midtown, then you only have yourself to blame. I _explained_ the situation ― I _explained_ why my father could not go to jail!” Caelum was getting mad. He closed his eyes and sighed, calming himself. “Are you getting anything, Parker?”

“No, I. . . I just wanted to ta―”

“Then leave me alone,” He snapped. That woman was wrong, Caelum didn’t like Peter, he would never like Peter. Who did this boy think he was, deciding the fate of a future that wasn’t his? Caelum didn’t like him, he forced himself to swallow the words. He didn’t like Peter Parker, and Peter didn’t like him. He was alone now, because of this boy, and even though he wasn’t much better with his father, he would have chosen getting beaten over living like this any day.

Caelum rolled his eyes at Peter’s stunned silence. “I’ll take the next customer,” Caelum said, looking around the boy. _Around, around, around._ Peter was a problem and Caelum found a solution around him. Peter was dangerous, and Caelum shut him out. Peter was beautiful and Caelum looked away.

Sometimes, Peter was like a poisonous oasis in a desert, and Caelum needed water. He wanted to drink but knew the second he touched the water, he'd die.

One of these days, Peter would surely be the death of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° 
> 
>  
> 
> Just wanted to say, Luna Amaquelin isn't significant to the story. I just wanted her in as a cameo because she was my favourite character when I read the comics lol.
> 
> See y'all Sunday!


	18. - 18 -

** chapter eighteen: **

  
Eventually, Peter had to go back to school ― Caelum didn’t even know _how_ he got out, that school was like a fortress. He didn’t get out of the Deli until nearly ten PM because there was a lot more cleaning to do, but Caelum didn’t mind.

Caelum said goodbye to Delmar and Murph, before leaving the store. He put his sunglasses on so he didn’t possess anybody as he walked. However, they were quite useless when someone pushed him down and dragged him into an alley.

Caelum grunted, his head slamming against the concrete, seeing stars for a minute. He didn’t get the chance to recover. His attackers began to kick him, in the side, in the neck, in the legs. Caelum curled up, trying to protect himself, but it was no use. He was lucky they didn’t have bats or 2x4s.

He heard a wish and someone landing on the ground with a thud. “That’s not very nice,” A familiar voice commented. His attackers turned to the new guy and began to run away, someone trying to reach into Caelum’s pocket.

His greed was his mistake. The new guy attacked. He heard a loud wish, someone running, and indistinct shouting. In minutes, everything was quiet again, as it had been when he was walking home. “Hey, are you all. . .” The guy trailed off, and Caelum turned to look up at him. His busted, swollen face fell as he saw his saviour ― Spider-Man.

“. . . _Shit_ ,” Caelum swore, turning to get away. His sides ached, but Caelum didn’t think about it.

“ _Wait_!” Spider-Man called after him, trying to catch his arm. Caelum yanked it away and glared at the guy.

“Get _away_ from me,” Caelum snapped. This masked idiot brought nothing but trouble ― why was he out so late at night anyway? He didn’t have time to ponder his sleep schedule — Caelum was late to his shift at the bar. He had to hurry if he was going to make it back on time.

He turned, looking around for the sunglasses, his eyebrow furrowed, scrutinizing the dirty concrete. “Are you looking for these?” Spider-Man held up the sunglasses, Caelum stood straighter.

“Yes, those are mine,” he held out his hand, waiting for him to hand it over.

Instead, Spider-Man tilted his head to the side, “What do you need sunglasses for ― it’s nighttime _and_ it’s February.”

“That’s none of your business. Give it back,” Caelum couldn’t go home without them ― he might end up possessing someone and get them hurt.

“They’re really dark,” Spider-Man remarked. “It’s no wonder these guys jumped you. They probably thought you were blind.” It was a joke how he said it, but neither of them laughed.

“I need to get home,” Caelum said again. “Give me my glasses.” Spider-Man looked at him, and handed them to him. Caelum snatched it away and quickly shoved them on his face. Immediately, the glasses were yanked away, and back in Spider-Man’s grip. Now, they had a line of white webbing hanging off the lense. Caelum twitched in anger and irritation.

“You can’t _wear_ these ― what if you don’t see something coming at you?” Spider-Man asked, disapprovingly.

Caelum was getting annoyed. “Are you trying to _harass_ me?” He asked dubiously. “Because, for someone who likes to ― what is it? _Keep Queen's safe_? You’re doing a _shitty_ job right now. I have to get home and you’re holding me up. Give me my glasses and leave me alone.”

“It’s not _safe_ to―”

“I don’t remember asking you if you believed it was ‘ _safe_ ’ or not,” Caelum snarled, anger creeping up on him. Suddenly, weeks of agitation, malnutrition, and sleep-deprivation was tempted to emerge. Caelum forced it down, but couldn’t get rid of the scowl on his face.

Spider-Man help up his hands, “Okay, okay,” He handed the glasses back. Caelum took them and left immediately, not giving another word to the vigilante. This was exactly why Caelum didn’t waste his time trying to fight crime at night ― it was stupid and _ridiculous_.

Spider-Man, however, didn’t have any qualms with this. In fact, he strolled right up to Caelum and began to walk beside him. Caelum inhaled, and then exhaled, “What do you want?”

“Well. . .” Spider-Man said, holding out the end of the sentence. “Since you’re so _adamant_ on wearing those things, I thought you’d need a buddy to guide you.” Caelum could hear the annoying smile in his voice. “Just in case you get hit by a truck.”

“Are you planning on _hitting_ me with a _truck_?” Caelum deadpanned, and Spider-Man shook his head.

“ _No_! I just. . .” He rubbed the back of his masked head. “I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m not some little old lady who needs help carrying groceries,” Caelum snapped. “I’m not someone you can just go ‘ _check_ ’ off your ‘ _Goodie-Two-Shoes_ ’ list. You can leave me alone ― I don’t want you here.”

“ _Cael_ ,” Spider-Man sighed, and Caelum looked at him.

“How do you know my name?” He demanded, angrily.

Spider-Man stopped, “I― _uh_ ―” Caelum sneered at the boy, yanking his hand away.

“I _knew_ something was off,” He snapped, “Have you been _stalking_ me?”

“No, I–I just―!”

“Were you trying to see where I _lived_?” Caelum snapped, ready to run away.

“Peter told me,” Spider-Man said, and Caelum stopped, staring at the boy. His heart twisted at the name.

“ _Peter_? Peter _Parker_?” Spider-Man nodded. “How. . . _why_ would Peter put you up to this?”

“He. . . he said he was worried about you,” Spider-Man rubbed the back of his neck again. “He said you might be in trouble and. . . he asked me to keep an eye out.” Caelum frowned, annoyed. He didn’t need a babysitter.

“You can tell _Peter_ that I don’t _need_ him to keep an eye out for me,” Caelum said coldly. “And, I don’t _need_ a babysitter. I’m _fine_ on my own. If he wants to talk to me, he can come do it himself. In fact,” Caelum gave a heartless laugh. “He can come explain why the _hell_ he snitched on my dad! Because I sure don’t know!” The anger seemed to bubble over like a pot, and he couldn’t stop the explosion. “Thought I could _trust_ him, but looks likes he’s just as much of an _asshole_ as everyone else is in my godforsaken life.” Caelum glared at Spider-Man, who looked almost stunned into silence. Caelum couldn’t tell much with his face covered. “You can tell ‘ _Peter_ ’ that if he wants to talk to me, he can come talk. But if he wants to talk, he better be ready to explain some shit.”

“ _Caelum_ ―”

“Get away from me,” Caelum snapped, and turned. He left, and this time, Spider-Man stayed behind.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
For some reason, the bar was especially crowded that night. Caelum worked nonstop, despite his bruised ribs, and made sure everything was clean while customers came in and out. Mr. Hills was busy getting drinks done, and the patrons of the bar were making a mess as they went along. Caelum had to possess three people in order to break up a fight at one point, inhabiting their bodies until they collapse. Since they had usually been very drunk at the time, nobody questioned it.

It was a strange feeling, possessing a drunken man. Nothing felt exactly right and it was harder to make sure he looked back in his own eyes before the man collapsed.

By the end of the night, Caelum was exhausted. He was more than ready to fall out on the bed and sleep. His sides burned from moving around so much. Mr. Hills thanked him, and paid him per usual. Caelum replied in earnest, paying him the rent for the night.

Since his accident with his father, Caelum was paying $15 a night. He had tried to go back up to $25, but Mr. Hills said that he was such a great worker, that he wanted to keep it at $15. Caelum didn’t complain ― the extra ten dollars would go towards the electric bill for the apartment.

Caelum didn’t go to sleep until 5:25 AM that night, meaning that he got a full twenty minutes of sleep before having to get up and go to work. Admittedly, he _knew_ this was unhealthy. He _knew_ that if he kept working like this, he would work himself to the grave. But, if he missed even an hour with Mr. Goldson _or_ Delmar, he would be missing out on _money_. He wouldn't let his family starve. Caelum left them a check every month. It was nearly all of the money he earned to go towards rent and bills. Sometimes, he wondered how his brothers or his mother was doing.

Sometimes, he wondered if his father would be back anytime soon.

The train came to a stop and the garbled voice announcing the exit ― _his_ exit ― sounded overhead. Caelum stumbled to his feet, making it past the doors. He swiped his student card over the exit and began to leave, holding onto the railing for support. God, he was so tired.

He felt someone come behind him, lifting his arm over his head, helping him stand.

This jolted life into him, and he stumbled away. However, the stranger was prepared, catching his arm and holding tight so he didn’t fall down the steps. Caelum stared up at them, seeing the twinkling brown eyes and dazzling smile. He immediately frowned. “Isn’t it a bit early to be wearing those?” Peter remarked, nudging his glasses as he helped Caelum up.

Caelum yanked his arm away, annoyed. “What are you doing here, Parker?” He was too tired to deal with him. He needed to get to Goldson’s ― he didn’t like being late.

“What do you mean? I just. . . happened to be coming along the―”

“Don’t _bullshit_ me,” Caelum grumbled, making it to the top of the steps. He began to walk briskly away, causing Peter to jog and catch up to him.

“Okay, fine, I sa―I mean. . . a _friend_ of mine’s saw you going into a bar last night, and―”

“You mean _Spidey_? The same idiot who thinks the laws of gravity and this city doesn’t apply to him if he can swing his way out of issues?” Caelum said, crabbily. Geez, he needed to lie down.

Peter made a face, frowning and scrunching up his nose, thinking of a defense for his Enhanced friend. “He doesn’t do anything bad. . .”

“Not _yet_ ,” Caelum muttered, “And, if you’re as close as you two say, you’d better advise him to stop while he’s ahead, or he’ll start facing some serious opposition in the future.” He stopped at the corner, remembering last night. “And that opposition might end up being me, if you don’t tell him to stop stalking me. It’s weird and I’ll sue him if he keeps doing it.” Of course, Caelum was in no place to sue anyone at the moment, but Peter didn’t need to know that. He started to walk when the light changed and they could cross the intersection.

“Okay, okay,” Peter raised his hands in defense. “I’ll tell him to lay off, but you didn’t really explain why you stopped coming to school.” He paused for a minute, “I mean. . . I _know_ why you stopped, but. . . why did you leave your parent’s place? Just because your dad’s in jail doesn’t mean you have to move.”

Caelum turned on him immediately, pointing an accusatory finger at him, anger suddenly flaring. “First of all, _Parker_ , my father is in _jail_ right now, because of _you_. So you are in _no place_ to ask me where I am spending my time, and why. _You’re_ the reason I had to move ― _you’re_ the reason I dropped out of school. You have _no_ right to question me on _my_ actions when you knew _full well_ what would happen if you went to the police with that information!”

“Caelum, your dad was _beating_ you!” Peter exclaimed and Caelum winced a bit from his loudness. A few curious and nosy heads turned their way, now intrigued with their conversation.

Caelum turned around and began to walk again, adjusting his sunglasses so they stayed on his face. “Get away from me, Parker. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I do,” Peter said. “Let me explain―”

“There’s nothing for you to explain,” Caelum snapped. “What are you going say? ‘ _Sorry for fucking up my life_ ’? Too late for that!” He gave a half-hearted laugh, his fists clenching tight with anger. He needed to calm down. Making a scene in public wouldn’t do anything for his image. If someone he knew saw what was going on, he would be in trouble.

He forced his face to go neutral and remain that way. His eyes settled on Peter, and the back of his neck tingled despite the dark sunglasses. “At this point, Parker, ‘ _sorry_ ’ won’t cut it. Talking won’t either. You’ve done enough damage and now I have to clean up your mess. The least you could do is leave me alone while I do it.”

Peter looked back at him, his brown eyes round with regret and sadness. His mouth, that was usually spilling with words and information was pressed tight, unable to speak the words that were probably ready to spill out completely. Caelum shook his head, getting Peter and his devastated look as far away from his mind’s eye as possible. He turned back around and began to walk again.

And was just as disappointed when Peter still insisted on following him.

Caelum didn’t entertain his presence with words. He didn’t turn around and yell at him either. He just kept walking all the way to Goldman’s shop, knowing he was a little late.

He opened the door and Peter came in behind him. Surprisingly, Austin was there ― he was usually at school around this time, but tried to come and help in the afternoons and on weekends. Caelum belatedly realized that it must be a holiday ― which explains how Peter managed to be there. “Hey Austin,” Caelum greeted, shaking the older gentleman’s hand.

Austin nodded, and glanced over at Peter, who had been staring around the auto repair shop, in a almost dazed wonder. Caelum remembered them playing when they were younger. He and Peter would find broken things in the neighbourhood and try to fix it or build something out of it. Peter was just as much of an engineer as he was. He was the only other kid on Caelum’s level, he never found someone else like Peter.

“Who’s this?” Austin asked curiously.

Peter looked over and grinned at Austin, it was the same bright one that Caelum believed could light up a dark room. When Peter smiled, his entire body smiled as well. He stood straighter, his muscles relaxing, his twinkling eyes crinkling at the edges. Caelum loved every part of this boy. “ _Hi_! I’m Peter Parker ― Caelum’s best friend.”

He shook his head, convincing himself that it was because of Peter’s comment and not to get the image of him smiling out of his head. “You _aren’t_ my best friend,” he said, and Austin turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Right. I’m his _self-imposed_ best friend and Cael likes to deny it.”

Austin was quiet for a minute ― at least, more quiet than he usually was. “‘ _Cael_ ’?” He finally said, looking at Caelum. He felt like his entire face would explode.

“It–It’s a. . . he likes to call me that,” Caelum stuttered, trying to find his footing. He needed to regain hold of this conversation. This was getting out of hand. Austin _knew_ he was gay ― or at least he suspected it. He would not shy away from relentlessly teasing him ― and in Peter’s presence no less. “You can leave now, Parker.”

“ _Who_ can leave now?” Mr. Goldson called, and a minute later, he was making his way to the front room, scrutinizing Peter. “Who’s _that_?”

Peter stepped forward, “Hello there, sir. I’m Peter Parker, Cael’s best friend.”

“Stop saying that,” Caelum grumbled, and Austin chuckled amusedly behind him. Mr. Goldson took Peter’s hand, but still eyed him suspiciously.

“You here to buy somethin’, boy?” He asked, and Peter blinked.

“No. . .―”

“You here to _work_?”

“Not. . . necessarily―”

“Then, we don’t open ‘til eight,” Mr. Goldson was clear with his point. _Get out._

Peter nodded, and Austin frowned silently. “Alright then. If I come back at eight, can I bring food in here? I can go to Starbucks or another coffee shop and get you something, if you like.” Caelum was suddenly shocked by Peter’s charisma. He usually wasn’t like this, Caelum was used to him being goofy and sweet. Now, he was charming and respectful. Was he always like this? Who did he learn this from? _Him_?

The thought of Peter watching Caelum’s mannerisms with adults and sweet-talking his way into things he wanted made shivers run down his back. Peter learning how to ‘ _finesse_ ’ his way to getting what he wanted ― and taking inspiration from Caelum of all people. It made certain things come alive when it was neither the time, nor the place for it.

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, annoyed, and wanting to get to work. However, Mr. Goldson wasn’t quite done with Peter’s offer. “I’m not paying for anything,” he frowned.

“You wouldn’t have to ― it’d be my treat!” Peter grinned, “How do you like your coffee?”

When Peter mentioned he would pay for it, Caelum knew Mr. Goldson was on board ― the cheap bastard. “Black ― no cream, no sugar.”

Peter nodded, and turned to Austin, “Anything for you?”

“. . . Mocha frappuccino,” Austin said, crossing his arms. “The ones in the bottles.” Peter nodded and glanced at Caelum.

“I don’t―”

“I know,” Peter smiled, “I’ll bring you back a green tea. Two sugars.” Caelum could feel his face lit up. Peter remembered his order from when they went _shopping_? In _December_?! This boy. . . this boy. . .

Caelum sighed as he went to go to the office, dropping off his phone. Austin followed him, a teasing smirk on his face. “Is there anything _else_ you want, _Cael_?” He asked and Caelum inhaled, rubbing his face.

“ _Don’t_ ,” He warned, grabbing his toolbelt that he left on a hook. He adjusted it as Audtin leabed against the wall, obviously ready to ignore his warning.

Austin nodded, still smiling. “Is there anything I should know about your ‘ _Not-Best-Friend_ ’?”

“Other than he’s a pain in the ass,” Caelum grumbled, “No. There’s nothing else.” Austin chuckled as Caelum adjusted his belt. “What do I need to do today?”

“That car over there needs the plugs replaced, and a woman came in yesterday evening to learn how to fix her filter. Goldie said you’d help her this morning.” Caelum nodded, “And, you can check the underside of the junker again, make sure the valves are on tight.”

“Is that all?”

Austin nodded, thinking for a minute, “You can show off for your boyfriend while you’re at it.”

Caelum went red, despite his darker complexion, “He–He’s not my boyfriend!” He snapped and Austin burst into laughter.


	19. - 19 -

** chapter nineteen: **

  
When Peter returned with two coffees and a hot tea, Mr. Goldson had been pleased. When Peter revealed that he knew more engineering and fixing cars, Mr. Goldson pleasantly approved. He clapped Caelum on the back as he lifted a few boxes to the work station.

“You bring in more boys who like to work for free,” He said heartily before escaping into the office.

While Peter was sliding into good graces with everyone, Caelum was far from amused. He asked Austin or Caelum what needed to be done. At first, Austin would give him a job ― spot Caelum as he tightened the valves, run the engine as Caelum fixed the motor ― but when he realized that Peter’s knowledge of cars was on par with Caelum’s he gave him more complex tasks. It wasn’t dangerous, but nothing a beginner would be comfortable with doing.

Peter, however, was more than in his element, and he made it known to Caelum too. He laughed, told jokes, spoke at rapid-fire speeds. Caelum tried not to look amused ― he had a job that needed to get done ― but he couldn’t help smiling to himself or shaking his head. He would catch glances at the boy when his back was turned, easily averting his gaze before Peter caught on.

This was an issue ― Peter was _distracting_ him. He needed to stop ― he needed to _go_. But, to voice his complaints in the earshot of Austin or Mr. Goldman was dangerous. Mr. Goldman liked Peter and Austin would annoy him until he brought the boy back.

So, much like decathlon, Caelum simply ignored him. He did his work quietly and efficiently, blocking out all of the noise, the laughter, the distraction that Peter brought with him. If he simply kept to himself, he could get over this. Peter had to go to school tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.

Caelum seemed to forget how tired he had been that morning and that he was running on twenty minutes of sleep. He was exhausted, and his body wasn’t all that quiet about it. His head was pounding and his eyes kept zoning in and out.

His hand loosened on the wrench, his body falling forward as he leaned inside the car. “Cael?” Peter was inside the car, hanging outside the door to see him. Caelum shot back up, stumbling back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, stifling a yawn. Peter didn’t seem to buy it, though.

He looked across the room to Austin, who was wiping his hand on an already dirty towel. “Hey, Austin, can Cael take a break?”

Austin nodded, “Thirty minutes.” Peter grinned, and stood straight, going to Caelum’s side.

“I can’t take a break,” Caelum frowned. He couldn’t afford a ‘ _break_ ’. Peter pouted and tugged on his arm, his twinkling eyes going round again. His lips turned up in an adorable pout and his eyebrows scrunching up. Caelum looked away, pressing his lips tight stubbornly.

“Take a break, Caelum,” Austin ordered, and Caelum looked at him, annoyed.

“ _Austin_ ―”

“You work hard enough. _Go_.” His tone left no room for argument. Caelum let out a half-sigh, half-groan.

Peter interpreted this noise as a yes and proceeded to drag him out of the shop. Caelum barely had time to put back on his coat and take his toolbelt off. “We _can’t_ be out forever,” Caelum warned, but Peter didn’t seem to worry.

Caelum followed him down the street as Peter walked eagerly. Unlike the people walking around them, Peter was ecstatic. He walked happily, grinning that sunny smile to the people who passed them. If Peter wanted to, he could smile the snow away.

Caelum followed him like a darker shadow, his arms folded tight to his chest, pushing away the freezing cold. “Where are we going?” Caelum asked the sunny boy.

“We’re almost there,” Peter said, and soon enough, they had arrived. Peter pushed through the doors at a small cafe. It was homely and smelt like vanilla beans. The woman was leaning over a register, counting a few bills out for a customer. She looked up at Peter and smiled.

“ _Petey_!” She exclaimed. She was a fiery redhead with bronzened freckles across her features. She had striking green eyes. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, a few strands dangling traitorously in front of her face. The woman wore a green shirt and black pants with a small logo that looked like a half-circle with waves coming off the top. She grinned at them. “Who’s your friend?” She had a small accent on her voice, but Caelum couldn’t place it. It was almost southern, but not all the way.

“This is Caelum ― Caelum, this is Sarah.” Caelum gave a firm nod, as the woman handed her change to the man. He nodded gruffly, raising his muffler and turning away.

A woman came out from a back room, “Petey’s here?” She called.

A large black woman stepped out. She wore the same uniform as Sarah, and smiled wide at them. She reminded Caelum of his Aunt Geneieve on his mother’s side. “Haven’t seen you in _ages_!” She said, squeezing out from behind the counter and giving Peter a big hug. “Where’ve you been hidin’? How’s May?”

Peter laughed, “School, and May’s good. I’ll tell her you said hey.”

“You do that,” She grinned, and turned to Caelum. He straightened and gave the woman a polite smile, “Who’s this?”

“Caelum Forest,” He replied smoothly, “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for the woman to shake. She surprised him by pulling his hand and bringing him into a hug. Caelum held in a gasp ― she was _just_ like his Aunt. She smelt distinctly of peaches, Caelum realized. Like, when they are still fresh and grown off of trees in Georgia, not the canned versions after the scent had been artificially altered.

“You a friend of Peter’s?” She asked when she pulled away, and Caelum frowned.

“We went to the same school together,” he replied, and Peter rolled his eyes, thinking this was an understatement.

“I'm Dorri,” the woman smiled. “You gon’ get anything, hun?” It took Caelum a minute to realize she was talking to him ― and had referred to him as ' _hun_ ’.

“No,” Caelum said just as Peter said, “ _Yes_!”

“A salad. And I'll get my usual,” Peter said and Caelum frowned. He glanced at the chalkboard menu behind Sarah.

**CAESAR SALAD - $7.99**

  
“No, I won't,” he said.

“Yeah, you will,” Peter replied stubbornly.

“No, I―” It was too late. Sarah rang it up. “ _Wait_ ―!” He could feel the money leaving his pockets, thinking about having to pay for it. He usually sufficed with an apple whenever he had time, but an eight dollar meal would completely offset his budget.

Peter stepped up and pulled out his wallet, taking a twenty dollar bill out and handing it to the woman. “Is that all?” Sarah asked as Dorri moved back behind the counter to prepare their meals.

“Can I get a hot tea?”

“Sure,” she smiled. “We have green tea, peppermint, pomegranate, and earl grey.”

“Green is fine,” he said and she tapped something else.

“ _Alrightie_! I'll have it out in a minute!” Peter grinned and waved Caelum along. He was hesitant, he didn’t like Peter buying him things, but he didn’t have the money for it, and he hadn’t had a full meal in weeks.

He followed, sliding into a bench seat as they waited. Caelum rested his head on the palm of his hand, “Do you come here often?” He spoke in lieu of the awkward silence that had threatened to befall them.

“My parents were friends with Sarah and Dorri,” Peter said, looking around, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I come whenever I can, but with decath and school. . .” He trailed off, looking a bit awkward at the mention of school.

Sarah came by and set his tea down in front of Caelum. He thanked her, grabbing two packets of sugar and tipping them in his drink. “So. . . why did you leave your parent’s apartment?” Peter finally asked, as if he had been brooding over it all morning.

Caelum took a sip of his tea, stalling for time to think. He decided to tell the truth, after a bit of deliberation. “Principal Davis came to my house,” he finally said, cupping his hands around the ceramic rim of mug. “He. . . knows where I lived. I thought that if I dropped out of school. . . and he knew my address. . . he’d put two and two together, I guess.” It felt weird to voice his fears aloud, and even worse to Peter, but this had been building up in him for weeks. Caelum had sacrificed being with his family in order to keep the predatory man from them.

Peter gave an understanding nod, picking at his cuticles. “What did he do to you, Cael?” He asked hesitantly. “I mean. . . you’re so afraid of him. I. . . I could hear you begging him outside of his office, and then you came out with cuts and bruises. . .”

Caelum shook his head, swallowing. He didn’t want to talk about it ― the man already infected his dreams enough, pushing his head far, far down as the sound of his belt buckle hitting the wooden floors rang in his ears. “Not today,” he said softly. That was a story for another time, later, farther in the future ― if he made it that far.

Sarah came to their table, dropping a steaming sandwich in front of Peter, and a Caesar salad in front of Caelum. “You boys enjoy, alright?” She said with her not-so-southern accent and Peter thanked her, grinning.

Caelum took the plastic fork off of the side of the paper bowl, pouring the dressing in and beginning to eat. His stomach was growling as he took the first bite, and he sighed gratefully as he chewed. The salad was _great_ , and he hadn’t had a meal like this in weeks.

Peter rose an eyebrow at him as he continued, finishing his bowl in minutes. His stomach was unsatisfied, but Caelum didn’t mind. It would do for now. “When was the last time you ate, Cael?” Peter asked suddenly, and Caelum frowned. It took him a few minutes, and by the time he may have been half-way close, he gave up.

“That’s not important,” he said, taking another sip of the steaming tea. Peter frowned suspiciously, but left it alone.

Caelum looked out the windows of the cafe. It was warm inside, with all the cooking, and not many people were coming in and out. This caused the windows to fog up, slightly obscuring the view of the travellers on the street. Caelum leaned on his hand, catching glimpses of people on their ways home or to work. He wondered what their lives were like ― if they got to finish school and have friends and eat salads whenever they wanted.

He sleepily thought about if they had kids, if they beat on them like his father. Maybe, they tucked them in at night and kissed their foreheads, like his sister did when he was young and when she was innocent.

He vaguely wondered, if their sisters were like ghosts in their families, as his eyes closed shut.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
When Caelum’s eyes opened again, he was in a completely different place. He was. . . on a couch, for sure. Someone was on the floor, leaning their head against the side of his leg. He gave a small yawn, twisting under a thick woolly blanket. It prickled his skin, but it was warm ― so _warm_.

He mumbled, snuggling into it. His radiator was broken and his bed smells like piss and sex, but this smelt like. . . _peaches and vanilla beans_.

“You awake?” The voice was familiar.

Caelum mumbled again, “No Petra. . . don’t want to go yet. . .” He said sleepily, turning away.

Someone chuckled. “We don’t have to ― I’ll call Delmar and Austin. You need a day off.” He felt something pat his knee, and he gave a small nod, going back to sleep.

**° · ° · ° · °**

 

When Caelum woke back up, he could hear the distinct sound of afternoon traffic. The cars were loud and drivers irritated. He sighed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He looked around, everything was warm, he hadn’t felt warmth like this since he was in his parent’s apartment. 

  
_Was_ he? He wondered, if Principal Davis knew he was there. . .

Caelum sat up, rubbing at his face, yawning. He saw Peter on the other side of the couch, the cushions moved so he could fit between the groove and the armrest. His feet were beside Caelum’s arm and he could feel the warmth of his body under the blanket they shared.

“You’re awake,” Peter grinned, looking as if he had just taken a nap.

“ _Awake_?” He frowned, looking at his worn, leather watch. Did he doze off ― his break wasn’t this long.

He gaped at the time, nearly jumping off the sofa _. 8:30 PM_!? “Ei–Eight-Thirty!?” He practically screamed. God, oh _god_ , he missed. . . he missed everything. “I’ve been asleep for. . . nearly _twelve hours_!?” His hands were shaking, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. How was he going to explain this to anyone ― to _everyone_? He’d be fired immediately, Mr. Goldman would be pissed as hell! And, Delmar?! He just got that job, and it paid great.

Caelum ran his hands through his hair, trying to get off the couch, trying to get out. He had to explain ― he had to get back. All the hours he missed, oh god his _budget_!

“Whoa, Cael!” Peter scrambled to get up too. Caelum wasn’t wearing shoes, where were his shoes? “Where are you going?”

“I–I missed―” he was panicking, he couldn’t calm down. He’d have to go without shoes, he could run ― it’d be icy. It didn’t matter, he needed to get out of here.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Peter assured, coming to his side. He held onto his shoulders, grounding him. “ _Breathe_ ― you didn’t miss anything. I called Delmar and I spoke to Austin and Mr. Goldman. You didn’t miss _anything_.”

Caelum stared at him, his eyes wide in shock and slight horror. “You. . . _you_ arranged this?” He felt like the boy had just spoken French. 

  
Peter rubbed his neck, “You looked like you hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately. I mean, you practically fell into that car earlier. I didn’t think you’d fall out on the table during lunch, but you definitely had some ‘ _zzz_ ’s to catch up on. I mean, you said it yourself, you were out for nearly twelve hours.”

“Peter,” Caelum was still shaken. All the money he would’ve made today ― lost, just like that. “ _Peter_ ,” he breathed again.

“I can’t say I’m sorry for not waking you in time, Cael,” Peter admitted. “You look like a mess. If you spend all day working like this, you’re going to work yourself into a grave. You deserve a break.”

“I can’t _afford_ a break!” Caelum snapped, finally able to break free of the shock that gripped him. “Don’t you understand that? I can’t afford to–to sleep all day! My dad is in _jail_ , my mom can’t support us all by herself! I. . .” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “I lost so many _hours_ today. . .” he murmured, rubbing his face. The room was beginning to get dizzy ― he needed to sit down.

He moved back to the peaches and vanilla bean couch, rubbing his face. Geez. . . this was just. . . _god_. . .

He could still make it to the bar, he decided. He would be a little late probably, but he could still work tonight, and get the $25. As for the rest that he should have made. . . he’d figure it out. His mother could foot that part, he thought, but frowned immediately. She was paying the _boy’s_ expenses, food and school, along with a part of the bills for the apartment. It wasn’t fair that she had to do a part of the rent that was _his_ domain.

“I know you’re stressed out,” Peter said, moving beside him. “But you need to start taking care of yourself, Cael.”

“I _do_ take care of myself,” He lied.

“You couldn’t even tell me the last time you ate, earlier.”

“I was tired,” he lied again.

Peter frowned, “When was the last time you ate?” He opened his mouth, “ _Excluding_ earlier, and the tea this morning doesn’t count.” Caelum closed his mouth. “ _Exactly_.”

“Parker,” he sighed, “I understand your concern, but I can’t―I can’t waste money like this. My family―”

“Your mom has a job.”

“And I have _three_.”

“And you barely get any sleep because of it,” Peter frowned and poked his side. “Not to mention, you hardly eat too.”

Caelum shook his head, standing back up. “I can’t argue this with you right now. I have to get to the bar.” He went to the door, but Dorri was blocking his way, hands on her hips and her mouth in a disapproving frown.

“I won’t allow it,” she announced. “It’s late, and ya still have barely eaten!”

Caelum smiled politely, trying to move past the larger woman, but she was like a brick wall. “With all due respect, ma’am, I have a job to go to.”

“Where do ya live?”

Caelum frowned, “Above my job, down on 18th.”

“ _18th_?” She frowned, thinking for a minute. “Who’s your employer?”

“You probably don’t know him, Frank Hills―”

“ _Frankie_? I grew up with him! I'll call him and tell him that you are quittin'.”

“ _What_?” He blanched.

“Yes,” She nodded. “He runs the bar, right? Those bedrooms are disgustin'! He has ya sleepin' there?” Caelum didn’t get to answer. “No, ya stay here. I won’t allow it.”

“Ma’am, I _couldn’t_ ―”

“That’s not a suggestion. I can’t believe he had you in those filthy rooms! I’ll call him right now ― ya got anythin' ya need tonight that’s over there, hun?” It took him a second to realize that she was asking him a question.

“Oh, I just. . . my suitcase―”

“Good,” she gave a firm nod. “I’ll call him then. You'll get it in the morning. Young boys like ya shouldn’t be workin' bars ― what time does he got ya finishin' up? 2 AM? _3_?”

“Usually, but I don’t mind, ma’am, I―”

“ _Save it_!” She snapped, as if _he_ were Mr. Hills. “Ya go lay back down with Peter, I’m gonna call this man.”

“Ma’am, _please_ ,” Caelum felt like his life was sand slipping through his fingers ― he couldn’t lose that job! “I need that job, I can’t just–just _quit_ , I―”

“Ya can work _here_ ,” She said. “Sarah and I don’t mind. You’re a respectful kid, and if Peter tolerates ya, then you’re not trouble, are ya?” Caelum shook his head. “ _Good_. Ya can’t be falling dead asleep like that ― nearly gave Sarah a heart attack when ya did it! She thought she _poisoned_ ya.”

Caelum couldn’t help the nervous laugh, and Dorri smiled warmly at him. “Don’t worry, hun. We’ll pay ya for your work and ya can get to sleep on time.” She shook her head again, annoyed, and reached into her apron pocket, pulling out a phone. “Can’t believe that man ― I might cuss him out!”

“Wait, what about rent?” Caelum asked, Mr. Hills’ rent was cheap and generous. He didn’t know if he could afford a higher one than his.

“ _Rent_!?” Dorri swung around as if she had been hit. “Ya ain’t payin’ no _damn_ rent! Did he have you payin' _rent_!?” Caelum couldn’t speak, but his silence was an answer enough. “Oh, I’m gonna _kill_ this man! _Sarah_!” She turned, leaving the room, calling down the hall for the woman. “This _bastard_ had him payin’ _rent_!”

Caelum stared at the door, shocked. He. . . he didn’t have to go back to the bar. He didn’t have to pay rent, and he would get a job _here_?

“Cael?” Peter was suddenly beside him. Caelum felt faint with relief. “Are you alright?” He couldn’t speak. He sniffed, rubbing at his face and letting out a long, deep sigh. Peter nudged his arm, “Does this mean we can do midnight talks again? Because I don’t think Sarah and Dorri are letting you go back to the bar?”

Caelum couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. He laughed until his sides ached and tears ran down his face. He laughed as Peter smiled, and soon joined him. He fell to his knees, holding his face as hysterical, disbelieving laughter slipped past his lips.

Caelum felt like he could have laughed for hours after that ― he didn’t know the last time he remembered laughing, not like this. A month ago? _Three_? Definitely no time soon.

He laughed until they turned into sobs, great joyous sobs of laughter. Peter hugged his shoulders as he held his face, his body shaking. He held him tight, still smelling like shea butter. If Caelum had been in any kind of stable mental state, he would have been embarrassed. He would have pulled away.

But tonight. . . tonight he stopped fighting. Tonight, he let go.


	20. - 20 -

**chapter twenty:**

  
Things were beginning to look up for Caelum. He quit his job at the bar and moved in with Dorri and Sarah. They gave him the guest room across from their own. He also adjusted his hours at the Shop and the Deli.

He'd come in at 8 for the Shop. Dorri demanded he’d have more time to sleep, and Caelum reluctantly agreed. He’d leave the Shop at twelve, get to the Deli at one, and help close up before eight. Then, he would come to the Café, help clean up for the night for a few hours, eat dinner with Dorri and Sarah, and then sleep.

Sometimes, during his shifts at the Deli, Peter would pop up, sometimes with Ned or even Michelle in tow. At first, Caelum was reluctant. He didn't like to be seen in a subservient-light and Ned was ready with more than a few jokes at his expense, but they weren't that bad, and soon Caelum warmed up to them.

When he finished closing with Delmar, he walked back to the Café ― sometimes with Peter. Since his sleep schedule was more ' _under-control_ ’, he didn't have to wear the sunglasses anymore. He grinned, looking at Peter as he spun around lamps or played imaginary hopscotch ― which he tried to explain to Caelum that it was more than real.

Caelum laughed at Peter's antics. When they got to Café, Peter would stand near the side, talking endlessly until it was time for him to go home. They talked about plans for the summer, when Peter was out of school. They could go to his house and watch Jaws, hang out, or play Monopoly ― a game Caelum only played once his entire life.

On days where Peter didn't walk him home, he would ― somehow ― end up at Caelum's window late into the night, and they would talk.

Caelum was beginning to fall in love with this life. He was in an environment where he felt safe and cared about. Dorri and Sarah looked out for him, they fed him, paid him $12 an hour for working in the Café. They insisted he’d be properly fed, they enforce getting at least eight hours of sleep ― something he hadn't had since middle school. He didn't know how he could thank the two women enough, and they always, always insisted that he didn't have to.

Mr. Goldman and Delmar were also kind about these changes. They cared about his health and well-being ― in their own ways ― and welcomed these changes so he could have a better lifestyle.

Austin, especially, was proud of him. He had noticed the change in his behaviour and his declining health and helped him in whatever ways could, giving him easier jobs, urging breaks when Caelum refused. He liked Peter’s influence on him and how much more energy Caelum had because of it.

He had even had the chance to contact his mother. Since he was living with Dorri and Sarah, he was able to use their address to receive mail. He wrote letters to his mother, explaining where he was and what was going on. He tried not to make her worried, she already had a lot to deal with ― the boys, his father ― he didn't want to put more on her plate.

She responded near immediately, a few days later, he got a letter from her, expressing her happiness to hear from him ― since he only slipped her envelopes full of cash for the past couple months. She told him everything, from his brother’s field trip in a few weeks, how they missed him, how she missed him.

The letter he left her didn't explain a lot. It was brief, saying that he would be leaving, he'd send money every month, and that he wouldn't be back for a while. He didn't explain the situation with Principal Davis. He didn't explain that he was dropping out of school. He didn't know if she would miss him, but it was obvious that she did.

He kept sending her mail and she kept responding. He advised her to save as much money as possible, suggesting that she'd take the boys on the Subway to the statehouse instead of using the bus. She agreed and promised to send pictures. She even had the boys write him letters and he said he'd come by during the summer.

Caelum was happy, even if he had a tough time showing it. He was happy and Peter helped him this way. He kept staying with him despite Caelum’s claims of him not being his friend or under-appreciation of him. For that, Caelum loved Peter, and he couldn't seem to squash it.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum was walking to the Deli between shifts. It was mid-April and the sun had just started to peak it's head ― after you got past all the rain and foggy mornings. He walked into the Deli, smiling. “Good afternoon, Delmar,” Caelum greeted the man, but he wasn't listening. His eyes stuck to the small television near the side.

Caelum frowned, walking over. “What's going on?” He asked, tilting his head to get a better view at the television. The New York Post was on and running.

“― _Shooting on the A-Train twenty minutes ago. There are one casualties and two injured. Witnesses say that the shooter was_ 'agitated’ _and_ 'loud’ _before opening fire on a woman with her sons. Authorities arrived at the scene, declaring the woman DOA_.” Caelum frowned at the news, raising an eyebrow.

“What's going on?” He asked, coming behind the counter to drop his stuff off in the back room and office.

“ _Shooting_ ,” Delmar said, and Caelum rose an eyebrow. He went to go wash his hands before ringing up the customer at the counter.

For the rest of the day, the shooting was just all over the local news channels. Even a few big ones like the _New York Bulletin_ had covered it. Caelum was surprised, but they hadn't released any other information on the woman yet. They just said the the shooter was in custody and the police were looking into it.

Caelum stayed a little later than usual to make sure the majority of the things were cleaned and prepared at the Deli that afternoon. Then, he said goodbye to Delmar and head out.

It was well after eight PM, so it was still dark outside, but the technology was loudly expressed across the city. Cars honked as if their drivers were having strokes at the wheel, people still roamed the mildly chilly streets. Caelum pulled his jacket closer as he walked, hurrying to get to the Café. Dorri and Sarah were probably worried, he was about twenty minutes later than he usually came back.

As he walked down the block towards the Café, he saw the bright lights of a strangely silent police car. The lights weren't spinning like they used to, they only sat, fixed in time, as if to enter the block the Café was on was to enter another reality. The thought was strange and Caelum couldn't help but feel a sense of dread fall on him. Something bad was happening, he realized, and he didn't need the back of his neck to tell him that it wasn't anything good.

Caelum raced for the Café, pushing past uniformed men and women and dashing through the open doors of the building. Sitting at the tables, were Dorri and Sarah, along with a few police officers, and. . . his _brothers_.

Caelum hadn't seen them in so long they were more of a shock to him than anything else. Their clothes were stained in splotches of blood, their eyes red rimmed and puffed. Pollux was holding Castor's hand, his head buried in his arm. Castor had tears silently running down his face, but his mouth was pressed tight. His face twitched, like he was holding in his own tears.

Caelum stepped forward and hugged the two boys that looked so overwhelmed. He suddenly felt angry, what had _happened_? Where was his _mother_? Has she left the boys _here_ ― he told her he was working here. Did she think it fit to dump the boys on Dorri and Sarah’s doorstep and run off?

“What's going on?” Caelum's voice was even as he rubbed the boys’ arms. The question was hanging in the air like an old picture frame, and nobody acknowledged it. “Where is my mother? Why are the boys here?” Suddenly, he heard Castor beginning to sob, his entire body shaking as if he was left in the snow. This caused a reaction from Pollux as well, and suddenly, their tears were synchronized.

“Son,” a taller man spoke, stepping over and setting a hand down on his shoulder. “You might want to sit down.”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
_His_ mother was dead.

The shooting had been about her and the boys. Someone shot her while they were on the train to get to the statehouse.

His _mother_ was dead.

She protected the boys with her own body. The man was trying to shoot them too.

His mother _was_ dead.

She wasn't coming back. Two bullets to the chest and four to the back defined that. She wasn't coming back.

His mother was _dead_.

She was left gasping and hugging his brothers to her chest, her last hope to protect them above all else. She whispered love to their shell-shocked ears, telling them she loved them, that she cherished them over all else.

_His mother was dead._

Caelum felt the world crashing over his shoulders. He felt life itself being torn apart in front of him. He felt the entire sky falling and the world quaking. He felt the trees themselves becoming undone by this horror, this monstrosity, this. . . this _sin_! He felt it all burn. He _wanted_ it all to burn.

How could this _happen_!? His mother, a woman who had never hurt a single thing in her life, was _dead_. She was _gone_ , her life snuffed out, her eyes no longer seeing. She was dead. She was _dead_. His _mother_. . . _she was dead_.

Caelum felt arms besiege him. He felt heartfelt words being thrown at him. He didn't know how to react. He didn't know what to say.

So he turned to the sheriff and spoke what came first. “My father is in jail. Will my brothers be put into the foster care system?”

Everyone blinked, almost. . . _surprised_ by this sudden coldness. Nobody, save his brothers, had ever seen him this closed off. They didn't know that this was normal for Caelum.

In his mind, he created a checklist. They could use the rest of his mother's earnings and the money he would have used for rent to cover funeral costs. Then, he’d sell the furniture in the apartment ― there was no way they were keeping it now. His brothers would be put into the system, it was much better for them this way anyway. Regular meals, being able to go to school, and Caelum could actually visit them too.

With the extra expenses, Caelum didn't know what he would do with all the money he was making. He still needed most, he had to pay for the funeral, obviously.

He could keep the furniture until after the recession. They couldn't bring food, they didn't have space, unless Dorri and Sarah took it. They could hold it here if they didn't mind.

He’d have to talk to the landlord of the apartment, making sure they could leave early. If not, he would spend the next couple weeks packing the apartment and getting their stuff away. Maybe in a storage unit. That way, he wouldn't have to sell everything.

“Caelum?” Sarah placed a hand on his upper arm. He looked at her, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine,” he said, and looked at his brothers. “You two should go change. Do you have anything for them, Dorri? I may have a few extra shirts in my suitcase.”

“Yes, of course, hun,” Dorri said, moving to stand. “I'll be right back.” She led the sniffling boys upstairs.

Caelum looked at the sheriff. “Where will my brothers be staying? Is it possible that they can live nearby, so I can still visit them?”

“Young man, according to these women, you are a minor too,” the older man frowned. Caelum didn't like how he said ' _young man_ ’ it sounded patronizing. Annoying. He didn't like this man. “According to these women, you've been living with them―”

“Because I _work_ here,” Caelum frowned. “These women are my employers.”

“You are _still_ a minor,” the sheriff stressed. “You'll be placed in the foster care system as well.” Caelum’s lips were pressed tight. This wouldn't help him. He could go to the courthouse, ask for independency, and possess the judge into ruling it possible.

But if he was in the foster care system, they'd force him to go back to school. He wouldn't be able to hide so easily from Principal Davis. He might get into contact with the Principal of the school and give him another ' _scholarship_ ’.

If he went into the foster care system and ran away, he'd be considered missing, which would do more harm than good, and he couldn't specify the loyalties of his employers. Would they turn him in, or would they let him work?

And, who would pay for the expenses for his brothers? If he didn't have a job, his brothers would be sent to public school and they would be vulnerable. He couldn't protect them and keep himself from getting caught by Principal Davis at the same time.

He frowned, he needed a plan. He needed to be able to get his ducks in row, and find out how he was going to help his brothers.

His mom was dead.

His father was in jail.

And the ghost at the table was quickly fading away.

Caelum's family was crumbling into pieces.


	21. - 21 -

** chapter twenty-one: **

  
Caelum didn't cry.

He didn't cry as he called his mother's relatives, telling them in vaguely remembered French about his mother's death.

He didn't cry as he made arrangements for her funeral and her repass.

He didn't cry as he got his brothers dressed and ready, or when he led them to the front church pew, telling them that he would be back later.

He didn't cry as relatives and friends came, all donning that ugly shade of black, the colour that sucked up happiness like a sponge.

He didn't cry as he, his father, his grandfather, and a few of his mother’s brothers carried her casket to the front and laid it down.

He didn't cry as a choir sang, both in English and a few lines in French. His mother was very close with the church staff. She had been attending the church since she came to America in the early 1990s. She was involved in all the events and used to teach Sunday school for the little kids.

Caelum didn't cry as speakers came up, co-workers giving stories of his mother’s work, patients treated by her, families changed with her help. He listened quietly, holding Castor's and Pollux’s hands.

He didn't cry as he stepped unto the stage, giving his own speech. His words were determined, business-like, and assertive. He spoke of stories his mother told him of home, the French she taught him when he was younger. He talked about her faith, how she loved her family, how she loved his brothers.

How she had loved him.

He didn't cry as he walked back to his seat. He didn't cry as the ghost stepped on stage. He hadn't seen her in years. Her eyes looked sunken in, her body strengthened by years of work. Her skin darkened from hours in the sun, her hair in long, locks that was pulled into an intricate bun. Her caramel coloured eyes found him. She gave the slightest smile.

Caelum didn't cry as he returned it.

Caelum didn't cry as he helped bring the casket out of the church. He didn't cry as he went to the burial sight, an area just outside the city, on a big hill. He saw the several hundred of other bodies, just as still as hers. Some of them had gravestones that were crumbling and forgotten with time. Others were fresher with flowers on the grave.

Caelum didn't cry as the pastor blessed the body one, last time, giving a prayer of his mother as he lowered her into the ground.

He didn't cry as they dropped purple lilacs over the grave ― his mother's favourite.

He didn't cry as they pushed the dirt overtop. He didn't cry as the guests began to leave. He didn't cry as he lingered, staring at the grave. He didn't cry as his brothers were silently led away by Dorri and Sarah.

He didn't cry as someone came beside him and took his hand. He didn't cry as she pulled him into his chest. He didn't cry as she began to gently stroke his hair.

Caelum did cry as she whispered to him. “It's okay, Cally. It's gonna be okay. . .”

The tears felt as if he had been holding them in since the beginning of time. They felt hot as they slipped past his cheeks. They felt strange as she gently rubbed them away. They felt wrong as his tears mixed with her own.

Then, someone was calling her. She pulled away, looking at him in his eyes. Caelum felt the tingling sensation on the back of his neck. He didn't look away. He wanted to take in her face, he wanted to see her again. He wanted her to stay.

She was an adult now. She could stay with them. She could take care of them.

But that was a fool's dream and he knew it. The chances of her getting a job would be slim. And even if Dorri and Sarah hired her, she wouldn't be earning enough to take care of all three of them.

Caelum was reluctant to leave her. A small part of him turned back into the nine-year old that listened to her tell him fanciful stories to help him sleep. A small part of him wanted to hug her and have her call him ' _Cally_ ’ one last time. He wanted her to stay.

But, rational thought took over ― it always did. He released her, wiped his face. “Goodbye, Petra,” he said, before turning to go. If he stayed any longer, he wouldn't be able to leave.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum sat silently during the repase as everyone gave him their condolences. Even their father had been there, accepting teary handshakes and forlorn faces.

He supposed nobody knew about the ' _incident_ ’ with him and Caelum. He didn't mind though, he was tired. He didn't have the energy to talk to him.

He saw Peter slide beside him, smiling gently at Caelum. It helped a little, to see that smile. He had lost his mother's smile. At least he still had his.

In his hands was a steaming mug. A tea bag was floating inside. He gently nudged it towards Caelum, not saying a word. Caelum gave a small smile, accepting it. He took a gentle sip, the green tea working it's way, soothing him.

“We can go upstairs,” Peter suggested. “Tell Dorri and Sarah that you needed to take a break.” Caelum considered this for a minute, before shaking his head.

“I need to be here. Besides, my brothers are upstairs sleeping. It's been hitting them hardest.” Peter nodded, understandingly. They were the ones who witnessed the murder. Caelum found them with his mother's blood on them.

“What'll happen to them?” He asked.

“Foster care,” Caelum said, sipping his tea. “Unless my father’s sister wants to take them in. I don't know what my mother had in her will ― if she even had a will ― if this ever happened.”

“And. . . what about you?” Caelum knew Peter had been thinking about it a lot. From the way he said it to the nervous glances he took at his hands. His eyes were scrunched in concentration ― probably from trying not to stare at Caelum.

“They'll try to put me in foster care, too.” Peter's eyes got a bit sadder, and suddenly, so did Caelum's. “I'll see if I can get independency. That way, I can stay in the city, with Sarah and Dorri.”

“If you can't?”

“Then. . . I'll have to go.” It was a tough pill to swallow and Caelum wasn't sure he wanted to even consider the option yet. He was going to do everything he could to keep himself here.

“ _Oh_. . .” Peter looked sad. Caelum didn't like that.

“ _Don't_ ,” he said, closing his eyes for a minute. “Don't look like that. Everyone been sad today. _Please_. . .” he couldn't take that look. He wanted _one_ positive thing, _one_ positive person, even though all this dark clothes and murmured apologies and tears. He needed Peter to be happy.

“Okay,” Peter nudged his shoulder and Caelum looked at him again. He was smiling, it wasn't his big, bright, sunny smile. But, it was one that cared. One that Caelum knew he could rely on.

Caelum smiled too, “Thank you.”

“ _Algol_!” His back went rigid. He turned sharply to see his father standing a few feet away from the booth where they sat. He turned to Peter and gave a semi-annoyed, semi-disgusted glance. “We need to talk.” From the way he said it, Caelum knew he didn't want Peter in the room.

Caelum moved immediately to stand, but Peter grabbed his arm, “

_Wait_ ,

  
” he warned. He was worried ― the last time Caelum was left alone with his father, he returned with broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and a beaten up face.

“It's fine,” Caelum assured, despite being a little worried himself.

“Cael, _please_ ,” Peter wasn't letting him go. He kept looking between his father and him, as if memorizing his features in case something was out of place when he returned.

“ _Algol_ ,” his father growled in a low tone that made his stomach twist into a sharp knot. He pulled his hand from Peter's and stepped away. His father led him outside and down the street. Caelum was tense the entire way. He kept watching his father, as he led him to a side alleyway.

Caelum reluctantly followed. His father watched him, dark eyes glaring. “Your mother’s inheritance includes about twenty grand in assets.” Caelum's eyebrows rose. $20,000 could do a lot for him in the future. He didn't know she had this much money. “You're going to use it to bail me out of jail.”

Caelum frowned, staring at his father. “

_Pardon_

  
_me_?”

“You heard me, boy!” His father snapped and Caelum immediately took a step back, swallowing hard.

“I'm sorry,” he said, and his father’s eyes narrowed.

“Someone's gonna contact you in a few weeks,” he snapped. “You're going to collect the inheritance, then put it in my name so I can get out of jail.”

“How much is the bail?” He asked.

“Are you _listening_ to what I'm saying!?” His father snapped. “Did I say you can _ask_ questions!?” He advanced on him, sneering angrily. “ _This_ is why your mother is _dead_! Where were _you_ when she was shot!? Why weren't you _with_ her and the boys?!” He grabbed him by the collar of his black button down shirt he had borrowed from someone.

“I–I was at work!” Caelum defended and he immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say.

“‘ _Work_ ’!?” He snapped. “You're still at that goddamn _job_ after I told you!” He raised a hand, bringing it down on his face. Caelum yanked himself away, stumbling back and hitting the side of a garbage bin. He held his stinging cheek, anger bubbling in him. “I said to _quit_ that job! I said to get that _scholarship_! Why can't you do what you're _told_!?”

“

 

_Someone_

 

had to work!” Caelum snapped back furiously. “ _Someone_ had to bring money in! What was I _supposed_ to do?! _You_ were in jail, _mom_ couldn't pay for all three of us! I had to! I _couldn't_ stay in that school!”

  
“You're making _excuses_!” His father growled, pointing a finger at him. “You're too _lazy_ to go to school, you're too _lazy_ to take care of your mother! I leave for a few months and _this_ ―!” He gesticulated his arms, wildly referrering to the scenery around him. “ _This_ is what happens!? I raised you better than that, boy! I didn't raise no _idiot_! No ' _minimum wage bum_ ’!”

“Well, I didn't ask for a father who doesn't know how to look after his _kids_!” Caelum said, fury rising in him. “You were _gone_! I had to pay for

_everything_!

  
I had to _work_ for everything! And now you want to come back and tell me to give you the money mom _earned_!? What did you _do_?! Where were _you_ when _she_ needed you?! Where were _you_ when _we_ needed you?!”

Anger infested him like a swarm of bees. He glared at his father, shaking with rage. “You've _never_ acted like a father! You've _never_ treated us like we're your kids! We're nothing but _paychecks_ to you!” He snarled at him, a fire in his eyes. “Why _should_ I give you the money? I should just let you _rot_ in that fucking cell!”

His father was fast. His hands were at his throat, squeezing the air out of him as he slammed his back into the wall. Caelum gasped, trying to breathe, his eyes wide and staring at his father.

If he was a swarm of bees, his father was a hive-full of hornets.

“Don't _ever_ talk to me like that, boy,” his father said, his voice eerily calm and even. This terrified him, his calmness. His father was choking him and he wasn't even raising his voice.

Caelum’s mouth gaped for the air it wasn't getting. His eyes wide, staring at his father. “You _are_ going to give me the money. You _are_ going to get me out of jail. If not, I'm going to beat your ass so bad the police won't be able to _recognize_ the bloody mess I leave behind. Is that _clear_?” Caelum nodded, clawing at his throat. His father was squeezing tighter and tighter he couldn't breathe. Dark spots were coming across his vision.

“I said, is that _clear_!?” He snapped, squeezing tighter, his nails driving into his skin.

He was going to die.

“ _Y. . . Ye. . . Y. . ._ ” He couldn't get anything else out. His arms went limp, his head feeling heavy and eyes filling with tears.

His eyes rolled into his skull his mouth no longer moving to bring in air.


	22. - 22 -

**chapter twenty-two:**

  
“Cael? _Cael_ , please get up. God, I knew I should've brought the suit! _Cael_! Cael, _please_!” His eyes rolled aimlessly, he slowly moved. His throat burned and he coughed roughly. His chest was aching and his lips felt sore as if he was punched. “ _Breathe_ , thank god, breathe Cael.” He did as he was told, looking at who was bearing down on him.

“P. . . Pe. . . _Peter_?” He rasped. Peter was staring at him, his eyes wide, tears glistening in them.

It was the strangest thing, his tears. His face was red and blotchy and the tears made visible lines down his cheeks. Caelum felt his stomach twist. “I thought. . . your dad, I. . .” he didn't finish the sentence. More tears moved down his face.

“My dad?” He croaked. His throat hurt so bad, he could hardly breathe.

Peter sniffed, rubbing his face. “After you two left, it had been a while and. . . I was looking for you and I. . . I found you here and you weren't breathing. You dad was gone. I. . . _God_ , Cael. . .” His arms were shaking and his lip trembled. Caelum felt a strange that Peter was crying on his behalf. He felt strange that Peter was crying at all. “I thought you were _dead_ , Cael.”

Caelum blinked and rubbed his throat. He winced, feeling the bruising easily. Peter kept talking, as if speaking to Caelum was a reminder that he was alive. “I just. . . I remembered what Mr. Collins said in health class and. . . you weren't breathing. . .”

Caelum a minute to process this. He vaguely remembered being in Ms. Collins’ health class in seventh grade. He remembered taking it with Peter ― and how annoying the experience was. He kept getting them in trouble.

“I just. . . I pinched your nose and breathed and―” Peter gave a helpless laugh. Caelum wasn't listening anymore. He sat up, gaping at Peter, his mouth ― which explained why it was so _fucking_ _sore_ ― gaping.

It took him awhile to process it. Peter saved his life. Peter gave him mouth to mouth.

Peter ― somewhat inadvertently ― _kissed_ him.

The words made Caelum's world turn and tremble. What does he do now? What was he supposed to do?

Thank him? For what, though? Saving his life? Kissing him?

This was weird. This was wrong. Caelum was thinking too much into this. This was Peter. This was _Peter_. Peter didn't. . . He wouldn't. . .

No. No. No. _Nuh-huh_. Nope.

It felt wrong to Caelum. Peter didn't know he loved him. Peter saved his life ― he _kissed_ him ― and had no clue that Caelum was helplessly in love with Peter.

Caelum realized that he had been sleeping and would never know what Peter’s lips felt like. A small, dark part of him wanted to go up to his father and punch him so he would strangle him again. That way, Peter would have a reason to kiss him again.

That was stupid, he chided. Stupid and self-destructive. He wouldn't do that. It probably wasn't worth getting killed over. And for a stupid reason like a _kiss_.

“ _Cael_?” Peter was calling him. He looked at him, his eyes settling on the boy’s pinkish-red lips that seemed to pop against the shade of his tanned skin. He wasn't exactly pale but he wasn't burnt either. He was a creamy colour, like white chocolate or sugar cookies.

Did his lips taste sweet?

“Cael?” He was spiraling again.

“Sorry―” he began to talk, but Peter raised a hand.

“No, don't speak, you'll hurt your throat even more. We gotta get you back to Sarah and Dorri’s. We can go upstairs, alright?”

Caelum gave a unconcerned nod, before realizing that Peter had wrapped Caelum’s arm over his shoulder, supporting both of their weights as he began to move.

“I can―” he began, but Peter cut him off.

“No talking!” He said sharply. “Not until you've had tea and a ice pack for your neck.” Caelum reluctantly agreed. He needed to sleep.

Caelum leaned into Peter ― he _still_ smelled like shea butter lotion ― as the boy helped him back to the Café. Most of the visitors had said their goodbyes and left, but a few were still mingling. Peter and Caelum were able to slip in nearly completely unnoticed. Except, Sarah blocked them on their way to the steps.

“Where have you two been?” She demanded in her false-hickory accent. One of these days, Caelum was going to ask her where she was from.

“We were sitting down, then Cael's― _ouch_!” Caelum had pinched him and gave him an angry look. “Caelum was. . . _jumped_. They, ah, strangled him. He needs some serious tea and to lie down.”

“Oh, my god,” Sarah said, her eyes going wide at the lie. “I'll put on some tea and soup, alright ― I know you're a vegetarian, I'll make pea soup. Go upstairs.” Caelum wanted to protest, she didn't have to do all that, but Peter was already tugging him along, helping him up then stairs and unto the couch.

Caelum heard the boys sleeping in the guest bedroom ― it used to be his bedroom, but he's been on the couch for the past few days. They usually snored and Caelum moved from Peter to go check on them. He opened the handle and peeked inside. Sure enough, they were dozing, wrapped around each other like pretzels. Pollux was quietly sleeping, but Castor's mouth was open and loud snoring came from him.

Caelum smiled and closed the door again. Peter was pulling the pillows off the couch and setting up the futon. “You don't―” Caelum began to say, but Peter cut him off.

“ _Ah! Ah! Ah_! No talking!” He said, sending a warning look his way, which Caelum assumed was supposed to mean that he meant business. “It's almost done.” He said, then set the pillows he took off on the backside so that they could lean on it. Then, he pulled a few blankets out and laid them across. “ _There_!” He grinned at Caelum.

The grin full of sunshine. Caelum remembered what they had done that day, who they buried, who he said hello and goodbye to, who he fought with. Who had kissed and not-kissed him, and how he utterly scared, exhilarated, disappointed, and happy he was.

The grin of sunshine reminded him that it had been a dark day. It also reminded him that everything was going to be okay ― that it will get better.

Caelum loved that, and he loved the person who wore it even more.

He gave a small smile back ― he could never compete with the grin of sunshine, but he was making an effort. “We can watch TV?” Caelum shook his head. “Do you want to play a board game?” He thought for a minute, but nodded. “What game?” Caelum shrugged. “Do you know how to play _Battleship_?” Caelum rose an eyebrow, he vaguely recognized the name, but had no clue how to play.

Peter jumped to his feet, going to the closet. “Dorri and Sarah bought a bunch of board games for the Café, and they keep the best ones up here― _ah_!” The shout of alarm and the crash of game pieces being dropped made Caelum jump.  “Sorry,” Peter said, sheepishly. “There was a spider. I got it.” Caelum shook his head, _this boy_. . .

Peter insisted on getting the pieces up himself, and he did. Then, he brought the game to the couch and began to set up. He handed Caelum what looked like gray lunch box.

He opened it and saw the designs inside. They there were miniature battleships with circles for pegs on it's top. On the sides were red and white pegs, which he assumed went in the holes on the top and the matching set on the bottom. The battleships were small and different sizes, some had six pegs and some had two.

“So this is how it works,” Peter began then he explained the game. Basically, he had to set up his ships in a particular fashion that Peter couldn't see. Then, when they were both ready, they would call out coordinates and see if they hit the ships or missed them. They used the top of the gray box to make notations so they knew where the opponent’s ships were and where they weren't. The player who sunk the enemies ships first won.

Caelum had half a mind not to possess Peter and see what his board was, but he was looking out for facial expressions. Peter made funny faces whenever Caelum suggested a point, and Caelum raised a thumbs up or thumbs down if he got it. Caelum wrote on a sheet of paper his guesses, _A1-B3, D6-C4,_ and so on.

Eventually, Sarah came back donning a tray with a steaming tea, an ice pack, and a bowl of soup. Caelum took it, croaked out, “ _Thank you_ ,” and sipped his tea.

Sarah smiled, “No problem sweetie! Dorri and I are just about to pack everything up, don't you worry. You two get some sleep ― Peter, it's getting dark, you want me to call May? You can stay the night if you like.”

Caelum pressed his lips shut. He'd end up getting no sleep if he spent the night, but a part of him seriously wanted Peter's company.

“I'll stay,” Peter said, smiling at Sarah. “Don't worry about Aunt May, I'll call her too.”

Sarah seemed pleased with this, she nodded, “Well, then y'all better wrap it up. Petey’s got school in the morning.” Sarah patted Caelum's knee before seeing herself out.

Caelum was quiet for a few moments, a bit stunned that Peter actually agreed to stay. Peter tapped his leg with his foot, “Your turn,” he said, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Caelum nodded, taking a sip of his tea as he scraggly wrote down his next coordinate. _A4-_ _E6_.

“ _Damn it_!” Peter snapped and Caelum grinned, successfully sinking his biggest ship. He only had a few left and Peter had only gotten two of his. “Where are your ships!?”

Caelum laughed, picking up the soup and sipping a spoonful. “ _Look_ ,” he said and smiled. They finished about ten minutes later, Caelum won and Peter was salty about it. He demanded that they had a rematch, but Caelum declined, it was getting late and he was planning on going to work in the morning, if he could.

Peter frowned, pouting against the couch. He grabbed Caelum’s spoon and tried a bit of his soup. He nearly choked, watching him, “ _Germs_!” Caelum snapped, grabbing the soup from him. It was still very hot and a bit of it splashed on his hand. He hissed in pain, managing to put the soup down before grabbing his burned hand, bringing it to his face.

“You have to run it under hot water,” Peter said, grabbing Caelum’s wrist. He quickly snatched it away, not allowing the warm fingers of the other boy to steal his hand. Peter was relentless, grabbing his hand again and dragging him off the couch.

Caelum put up a half-hearted fight before giving in, allowing his hand to be drenched in cold water ― something common in Dorri and Sarah’s home.

Caelum watched as Peter carefully twisted his wrist, making sure all of his hand was drenched in water, making sure he was fine. Peter’s wrist was almost scalding against his freezing skin, and he couldn’t help noticing it. Peter was _still_ touching his hand ― he was _still_ holding him in place. His eyebrows drawn, his mouth forming a steady frown, concentrated in serious thought. He was like a freshly created painting, ready to be hung, forever frozen in time to display his beauty.

Jesus, Caelum was such a romantic, wasn’t he?

Suddenly Peter spoke, breaking the illusion. “Hey, do you think shellfish and crabs experience things like a shell-depression when they can’t find any more shells? Like, nobody has any extra shells and suddenly they begin to hoard them and everyone is suffers?”

Caelum looked at the boy, then he scoffed, shaking his head. “What?” Peter asked and Caelum let out a small laugh.

“You're so silly,” he said, pushing his arm. His throat still hurt, but the tea helped a lot. Peter grinned and Caelum couldn't help staring at his pink-ish lips again. He could imagine himself leaning in and kissing him. It would be so easy, they were alone, and he was right there and. . .

Caelum looked away, taking his hand out of the water and rubbing it on his shirt. “We should go to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

“Cael? What's wrong?” Peter asked, scrunching up his adorable eyebrows and looking at him.

“Nothing,” he snapped, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. To be so near someone he loved, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of him, and not be able to tell him he loved him. Or, really being afraid to. He couldn't love Peter, he was straight and Caelum was gay. Peter would never be able to love him. He only loved senior girls with big butts and fair skin and of the female sex.

This was ridiculous. He couldn't live like this.

Caelum stepped out of the bathroom and back onto the pullout couch. He grabbed the covers and pulled them over him, turning his head away from Peter so he wouldn't have to see him.

He felt the bed shift as Peter came in beside him. There was a silent minute. “Cael?” Peter spoke.

“Yes, Parker?” He wasn't in the mood for midnight conversations.

“Did I say something wrong?” The doubt in his voice made Caelum's heart ache.

He bit his lip and inhaled, “No, Parker. You. . . you were fine.”

The only mess was in his head, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe does this count as a first kiss?


	23. - 23 -

**chapter twenty-three:**

  
Caelum's suspicions were correct. He didn't sleep much that night ― but not because Peter liked to talk at the wee hours of the morning. He couldn't sleep because of the _proximity_ of the boy, he couldn't sleep because of the hot air he blew on his neck so subtly, so _quietly_ , that it made his heart pound loud enough for the entire city to hear. He couldn't sleep because at one point, Peter moved in his easy sleep, draping an arm over Caelum and tugging him close.

He couldn't sleep because immediately after that happened, his. . . _lower areas_ became wide awake.

He couldn't sleep because he could smell Peter's fragrance ― shea butter lotion, he was never going to use that lotion again. He couldn't sleep because he could hear Peter murmur a small, nearly insignificant “ _Cael_. . .” under his breath.

He couldn't sleep because his eyes went wide and his lower regions suddenly got hot and loud.  

Caelum couldn't sleep because he forced himself to ease out of the boy's warm, strong grip ― he could spend years being held like that with this boy. He instead slept on the floor.

Or, tried to sleep on the floor.

He couldn't sleep because the floor was so hard and cold and Peter was soft and warm. He imagined Peter, his image, his being, in his head. He imagined Peter holding him tight ― _deliberately_ ― and never letting go.

He imagined Peter loving him just as much as Caelum loved Peter. He imagined _kissing_ Peter.

It was a long night. Caelum didn't sleep at all. And when the sun rose, so did he. He went to the bathroom, washing his face. Then, he decided to take a hasty shower. He rubbed his curly, dark hair dry and grabbed some clothes. When he came out of the bathroom, Peter was still asleep. It was nearly six AM, the only people up at this time was Sarah and Dorri, and they were just barely there.

Caelum stepped down the steps softly, speaking a mild _good morning_ to the two women as a few early customers came in and soon out of the shops, brandishing coffees and morning pastries. “I'm going to take a walk,” he announced and the two women nodded. He left the Café.

The sun wasn't very high, but it was bright. A few clouds lingered and so did the moon, quite stubbornly. The cars on the street were beginning to start their early morning wake up call ― one that Caelum was accustomed to and found a bit comforting. A chilly breeze blew past, but that was just New York for you, it would get warmer later on in the day, he thought.

He walked, hands in his pockets, eyes surveying the early birds of the city. The people were a bit scarce, some of them were joggers, others sitting on benches reading newspapers. A few homeless people shuffled about, eyes downcast and arms folded.

Traffic was moving at an average pace, cars getting by a bit faster than usual due to the earliness of the morning. A few taxis made their way down the street, some of them had their light on, others didn't, a few small cars also turned around the corners or came out of garages, ready to reluctantly start morning. There was a large black van that drove a bit slower than the others.

Caelum ignored the sound of the cars and turned the corner, there was a park nearby and he didn't mind walking around there. He was tired and needed some fresh air and some time to think.

His father said that someone was coming with his mother's inheritance. He also threatened to kill Caelum if he didn't bail him out. Caelum hadn't pressed charges against him when he was arrested, but he was still in jail for child abuse ― the evidence was stacked too high. He would be about in about four to five years, but he wanted to be out _now_.

And then there was the ghost, in the same position. Why didn't he help _her_ instead? She could do a lot more than his father could.

That was a lie. She couldn't, but it would make him feel better if she was there.

Or, he could simply take the money and leave. Just move himself and the boys somewhere safe. It was enough to get them all overseas. He could find his mother's family, live there, far, _far_ away from his father _and_ the ghost.

But, he'd also be far away from Peter too. Caelum could trick himself to live without Peter, he could fool himself into forgetting the boy. But, he didn't want to. He wanted Peter ― _desperately_. And Peter wanted him _here_. He couldn't leave him that easily, that _quickly_.

Not without saying goodbye, at least.

He needed to find out what he was going to do. He needed to find a way to live. He was in charge now his parents were gone and nobody was going to help him and his brothers but himself.

He stopped at the corner. There were no cars coming in either direction, but he wasn't in a rush to get anywhere. He waited for the light to change, wondering when it would be a good time to go back to work ― if Sarah and Dorri would even _let_ him. Did they think he would need time to mourn? He didn't have time to mourn, not with everything going on.

A car stopped beside him and the door slid open. He vaguely recognized it as the slow black van. Then, someone was grabbing him by the shoulders, yanking him inside as the van sped off.

He didn't even get the opportunity to speak.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The black van and it's occupants were. . . _interesting_. For the most part, they did their job, kidnapping him, well. He was proficiently duct-taped and silenced. His eyes covered by a questionable smelling bandana ― or rag, he wasn't sure ― and his arms bound with zip-ties.

Then, Caelum was tossed helplessly ― _pathetically_ ― in the back of the truck as they moved. Sometimes, they spoke, correcting directions to the designated driver, other times, they talked in whispered tones with one another.

Caelum wanted to ask where he was going, why someone was dragging him away, and if his father was behind this. He was pretty sure his father thought he was dead ― after that stunt at the repass ― but maybe he did leave him alive for someone to find him? Or he hadn't initially meant to take his life, or at least try to?

He was quickly getting his answers when the car came to an abrupt halt. The thugs ― because that was exactly what these men were ― carried him out of the back. Caelum wondered if he looked like an infant ready to be fed, by the way the men held him.

It made him angry and embarrassed. He was tired and wanted to sleep. He ― potentially ― had work in the afternoon and a mother to grieve. He didn't have time to be taken out on involuntary playdates with mysterious people!

He was kindly set in a chair ― and by that he meant rather roughly, and then straightened as an afterthought. Someone took the sweat-scented bandana off his eyes, he was sure to get pink eye later, and ripped the tape off his lips. The zip-ties stayed on, unfortunately, and when Caelum blinked to recognize the room, he wished they were off.

He was in an office space, one he didn't recognize but that didn't matter. Principal Davis sat across from him.

Caelum hadn't seen the man in months. He was smiling, but he was well-versed with that smile. He was infuriated, and he was going to die because of it. Caelum remembered the last time he saw Principal Davis, the same night everything he loved practically went to shit. All because of him, all because the man said he had a partial scholarship ― that Peter Parker had the full scholarship.

And now he was sitting in front of him, sipping a steaming mug of what smelled like coffee.

Caelum was going to be sick.

“Mr. Forest, I am glad you could join me today.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if it would help him ignore the man in front of him. As if he would go away. “I am sorry for the. . . _unusual_ way of you being brought here ― I didn't believe you would be willing to see reason and sit down with me.” He paused for a moment, thinking, “Well, not with Mr. Parker whispering nonsense in your ear. My condolences for you mother. How have you been?”

Caelum didn't want to answer him. He didn't want to be here. He remembered all that time in this man’s office, all that he had given to him, this school year and the last. Why couldn't he be satisfied? Why couldn't he leave him alone?

“I asked you a question, Mr. Forest,” Principal Davis said, with a more. . . sinsister feel to it.

“I. . .” the words choked in his throat. He wanted to cry. He didn't want to be here, “I ha–have been well.”

“And your brothers? I heard they witnesses the attack ― _pity_.”

He swallowed hard, he didn't want this man talking about his brothers. “They're. . . they are fine. . .”

Principal Davis nodded solemnly, “That is good. Now,” he clapped his hands and Caelum flinched in his seat, his bonded hands feeling clammy. “Straight to business. With your father in jail and your mother deceased, nobody will be there to take guardianship of you and your brothers.” Caelum didn't like where this was going. “And I am sure you wouldn't want them to go into the foster system and get, well, _swept away_ , now wouldn't you?”

“N–No, sir.”

“ _Good_!” He smiled, “Then, I will take guardianship, your brothers will live with me and my wife, and you―”

“No!” Caelum shouted. He was wanted his brothers nowhere near this man. “No, they won't. I won't allow it, they―”

“Did I _say_ you could speak!?” Principal Davis snapped, his words booming loudly in the room. Obviously, he wasn't concerned about disturbing anyone.

“I. . . I apologize,” he murmured, and Principal Davis smiled.

“I understand your worry, Mr. Forest. You wish to protect your brothers, and I commend that. No harm will come to your brothers while you are under my care. In fact, you three can be moved to a separate housing, if you feel that it would be better for you.”

“I don't,” Caelum swallowed. “I don't want to live with you, sir. We, my brothers and I, we are fine our own.”

Principal Davis’ eyes narrowed. Then, he sighed, and stood. Caelum gave a small whimper as the man approached him, waddling close to his side. He shut his eyes tight the man gently caressed his cheek. “I am trying to help you, Mr. Forest. Do you understand that?” Caelum nodded. He wanted to be away from this man. Away from this place. He wanted to be _gone_.

“But, I can see it is causing you distress. How about this, your brothers can be left in Queens, if those coffeeshop women are willing to take them in. If,” he grabbed his chin, Caelum winced. “ _You_ come with _me_. You can be in a separate house, I'll get an apartment all for you and me. And, you can even go back to school ― do you like that? It's not far at all from the school. You can be back with all your friends, but only if you do _exactly_ as I say.”

“I don't want to―” He hit him. Somehow, Caelum forgot how hard this man could hit. It didn't sting, like his father's, it _burned_. His head snapped away and he gasped, moving his tied hands to his face, as if it would help heal the attack.

“I am being _reasonable_!” Principal Davis snarled, yanking him from the seat and throwing him on the floor. Caelum feel with a thud, unable to pick himself up and move because of the zip-ties. “I am trying to help you _miserable_ ―!” He stomped on his chest. Caelum let out a gasp, curling in on himself, wishing he had his hands so he could protect his head. “ _Whining_! _Ungrateful_ child!”

“I–I–I’m sorry! _Please_! I'm sorry!” He begged, god it hurt so much. He vaguely remembered his father’s beating and how bad that had been.

Principal Davis stopped and stood a bit straighter. “Here is what's going to happen. You're going to pack your things ― actually, no, don't pack your things. You're just going to come with me. We're going to get you settled and then you will clean yourself up for me, alright?” Caelum held in a sob. He didn't ― he didn't want to do this.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, shaking his head, he had to try. “Please, I don't. . . _please_. . .”

“Do you _understand_ me?” Caelum closed his eyes. He wanted all this to just disappear. To go away. To leave him alone.

He nodded, sniffing. “ _Good_.” Principal Davis hoisted him up, sitting him in the chair again. Caelum leaned against it, and Principal Davis caressed his cheek again. “I’ve missed you, Mr. Forest. I'm glad you're coming back to us.”

Caelum didn't look at the man. He kept his gaze on the ground. “Yes, sir.”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
It didn't take Principal Davis long to buy an apartment ― or really, to buy some young college student out of their apartment. It was already furnished and quite nice, if the forty-year-old man wasn't behind him.

Caelum was shaking, he's never been so scared in his life. Principal Davis had took the zip-ties off of him and let him walk around. He knew Caelum wasn't going to leave ― it was at least a four hour walk back to Queens from Hell’s Kitchen, and he didn't have money for any kind of transit.

Principal Davis said that he'd send a letter to Dorri and Sarah saying that he'd give them money ― a lot of money ― for taking in Castor and Pollux. Caelum also assumed he had somehow paid off his social worker, or something.

At this point, Caelum didn't know ― he couldn't. Principal Davis said that if he was good, if he did as he was told, he’d be able to see his brothers. Caelum couldn't live without them ― he needed to be able to see them again.

So he listened, he obeyed, he followed directions. He did as he was told. Principal Davis brought him clothes to wear and told him to wash up, he did. He showered he took as long as he could before the man was knocking on the door. Then, he dressed. It was a Midtown High uniform, and it was a bit big.

Caelum stepped out of the bathroom and Principal Davis smiled wide. He liked him like this.

Caelum realized he was shaking. He realized that tears were threatening to fall down his face. He discreetly wiped them away as Principal Davis led him to a bedroom.

“ _Please_ ,” he tried one last time. His voice was small, so different from his usual mature, outspoken self. It was small because he was scared. He wanted to go home.  “Please, I don't—I don't want to do this.”

Principal Davis shot a look at him. Then, he began to unbutton his clothes ― all his clothes. “Get on the bed.”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum didn't scream. But, he did cry softly, keeping his eyes shut the entire time. He didn't like this. He hated him. He didn't like it and he didn't want it, but it was no use with him, with Principal Davis.

He cleaned up, he scrubbed himself down, until good skin began to fray from the rough cloth. He changed his clothes, another uniform, just a bit bigger than his size.

He stared at the clothes he wore. The bright yellow blazer seemed to be dulled in his eyes. The blue logo seemed to hold a lot less colour than it used to. The beige pants felt like fire against his worn out knees and battered body.

How did this happen? He remembered being too embarrassed to sleep _next_ to Peter, now he was sleeping _with_ his Principal, and for _what_? He couldn't say no, the man would kill him.

He had to go back to Midtown too. He didn't want to see his classmates, hear their unspoken questions. He didn't want to to see Peter, who would be confused why he left and never came back, and why Caelum couldn't talk to him ― that was one of Principal Davis’ requirements. _No distractions._

Caelum couldn't go to work either, he had to come straight to the apartment, or else there would be consequences. He had to just. . . _finish school_. If he finished school, if he turned eighteen, he could take custody of Castor and Pollux himself. He could leave, and nobody would know, nobody would care.

As soon as Caelum turned eighteen, he was leaving this stupid city, his feelings for Peter be damned.


	24. - 24 -

** chapter twenty-four: **

  
Getting back in schedule with school was hard. Caelum was doing three times his usual work. During class, he took as much notes as possible, spending his free-time in the library or other quiet study places. His teachers greeted him warmly, a few offered to help him after school, in sympathy for his mother.

The rumour was that she had gotten sick with cancer, but had been shot before she could have the chance to live. They commemorated him for returning to school so quickly, most would stay in bed and cry, one of his teachers noted.

The real reason for his return was Principal Davis saying that mourning the dead wasted time, he couldn't revive her, and then proceeded to rub his head. Caelum flinched away and Principal Davis didn’t like it.

He dragged him from the chair by his ear, tossing him on the ground. Then, he proceeded to straddling him and strangling him. Caelum thrashed and cried out, and after nearly losing consciousness, he let go.

Caelum gasped in air, his eyes watering and the room shifting left and right. Principal Davis smiled at him and said, “Go to class now.”

Caelum slowly made his way back to the library, it as lunchtime. He grabbed a few books out of his locker, and was stopped when Peter grabbed his arm.

“We need to talk,” Peter said and Caelum flinched away, his heart pounding.

“ _Don't_ grab me like that,” he snapped and looked around. Principal Davis would kill him if he saw him talking to Peter. There were cameras everywhere, it wouldn't be hard to spot him ― nobody else was in the hallway. “ _Leave me alone_.” He pulled his arm but Peter held tighter.

“We need to talk,” Peter frowned, “You left your brothers at Sarah and Dorri's. You _abandoned_ them. What's going on? Why would you do that to them?”

Caelum glared at him, “I _didn't_ abandon them,” he snarled. “And what is going on is none of _your_ business. Leave me _alone_ , Parker.”

“Caelum, you look _sick_ ,” Peter said. “What is going on? Why are you here? Your mom just. . . _y’know_. You should be resting, you should be with your _brothers_.”

“I _can't_ be with my brothers right now.” Peter frowned at him.

“Why did you come here?” Peter urged, “Why didn't you just―!” He shook his head, sighing deeply. “If you _wanted_ to go back to school, why didn't you go to a _different_ school, _any_ different school! Why did you come back _here_!? Do you even have the scholarship anymore?”

Caelum gave a kind of half swallow, “I can't. . . I have to go, Parker.”

“ _Cael_.” God, Caelum missed that name. He missed the way Peter breathed it, as if it was too heavy to hold on his tongue. He missed the weight and emotion and Peter behind the word.

He missed _him_.

“I need to go,” he said and turned around. His heart promptly jumped into his throat.

Principal Davis stood behind them, smiling and arms crossed. “ _Sir_ ,” Caelum fumbled, nearly dropping all his books. “Sir, I. . . this. . . I–I was just about to go to the library, sir.” Principal Davis rose an eyebrow. Caelum's arms shook.

He gripped his books tighter and saw Peter move between them, eyes narrowed, “Mr. Pier,” Principal Davis spoke. It was annoyed, and mildly angry. Caelum was going to die tonight. “I do believe you should be in the cafeteria, am I right?”

“We are allowed to go to the library or any other place,” Peter replied sharply. “Is something wrong, Principal Davis?”

“I need to. . . speak with Mr. Forest.” Caelum's heart fell from his neck to his stomach. “Come over here. We need to talk about how you spend your free time.”

“I don't think that's important,” Peter quipped, holding tighter to Caelum's arm. “In fact, Cael and I were just about to go to the library to study for finals. _Right_ , Cael?” He wasn't breathing. He was staring at Principal Davis, who was glaring at the two of them. Peter took his silence for yes. “Great, goodbye sir.”

The bell rang and seconds the halls were flooded with students. Peter pulled Caelum away and he saw Principal Davis angrily pushing past students to get to him.

They didn't go to the library. Instead, Peter dragged them outside and he sat near the wall.

Caelum stumbled back, his hands sweaty and eyes wide. He couldn't breathe. He fell to the ground, holding unto the wall. He couldn't breathe. Peter was talking to him, everything was dizzy.

Principal Davis was going to kill him. Last time he ran, his father beat him nearly to death. Tears burned his eyes, he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

Peter hugged his shoulders, pulling him close to him, “Calm down, calm down.”

Caelum realized he was crying, he felt the tears stain Peter's shea butter lotion shirt. He felt tears hit the top of his head too. Peter was crying.

“I. . . I can't,” Caelum sniffed, rubbing his nose. He didn't want to pull away just yet. “I have to. . . I have to go back, I can't. . .” He would put his brothers in foster care. He would kill him. He wouldn't be able to do anything ever again.

He had no choice. He just had to hold out, he had to wait until he was eighteen. Then, he could take the boys and leave. Then, he would be safe again.

“You can't stay here,” Peter said and Caelum shook his head.

“I have no choice.” There was nowhere else for him to go. Principal Davis knew where he lived, he hired men to _kidnap_ him, for Christ's sake!

“You need to go to the police,” Peter said angrily. “Cael, look at you! If you keep this up, you're going to _die_.” Caelum blinked, that didn't sound like a bad idea.

No, _stop_. He couldn't think that way. Caelum stood, wiping his face. “Thanks Parker, but I have to go.”

“Caelum, _listen to me_ ,” Peter begged. “You can't. . . you can't live like this. _Please_ , just. . . let me help. I can _help_.”

“ _How_?” Caelum scoffed, staring at the boy. The colour drained from his face and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He looked like he wanted to say something, but something was holding back his tongue.

Caelum scoffed, he didn't need false hope at a time like this. He needed a clear head and a plan, and Peter Parker wasn't providing either of those things. “Bye, Parker,” he said with a heavy sense of finality and went back inside.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
That night was worse than most. Principal Davis wasn't happy at all with his little ' _getaway_ ’ with Peter, despite Caelum coming back and apologizing to him.

But, strangely enough, he didn't stay the night, as usual. In between their lovely session of beating Caelum until he was blacker and blue, his phone buzzed. Caelum was on the floor, unable to see what was happening, but whatever it was, it was important. “Stay here!” Principal Davis growled, “We're not through yet!”

“Yessir,” he slurred, unable to even see straight. Principal Davis was pleased and hurried out of the room.

Caelum was tempted to actually not move. He genuinely wanted to stay still and possibly go to sleep ― for one. Unfortunately, he heard a sharp, almost familiar, knock at the window as soon as Principal Davis left.

Caelum blinked, _Peter_? That wasn't possible, how in the world could Peter Parker be outside his window, there was no ledge and he was on the _eighth floor_! Besides, Peter was in Queens and he was in Hell's Kitchen. Despite the boy's stubborn nature, it would just be crude and near impossible if it had been him.

He stumbled to his feet, absentmindedly wiping at the blood under his nose ― but it didn't matter, he had blood everywhere ― and pulled back the curtains.

He jumped, stumbling back, as two dark eyes peeled back at him. The infamous Spider-Man was hanging at his window, he tapped on the glass, “Does this open?” It _did_ open. Caelum wasn't going to let him in.

“ _Go away_!” He hissed, he didn't know how long Principal Davis would be gone. “Or, use the fucking _door_!”

“It was locked. Open the window!”

“ _No_!”

“Please, Cael!”

“ _Don't_ call me that!” Only Peter was allowed to call him that. “And you're _not_ coming in.”

“ _Fine_.” He shot his webs at the corner of the window then, he climbed up, out of sight. With a solid yank, the window’s glass was yanked out.

Caelum stumbled back as Spider-Man slipped through. “What the. . .?! You _broke_ it!”

“You weren't opening up.”

Caelum ran his hands through his hair, he neglected on cutting it, it was growing long and bushy. “Shit. Shit. _Shit_. I. . . _Fuck_.”

“I can fix it,” Spider-Man said, as if it would help. He pulled his hand up, that was still holding he glass. “Give me a minute.” Then, the ominous spider turned around and place the glass back in place. “ _There_!”

“He's gonna kill me,” he whispered.

“Where is he?” Spider-Man asked, looking around Caelum. “What are you _doing_ here anyway? This apartment looks _expensive_.”

Caelum sneered at the comment. “That's none of your business. Now, get out!”

Spider-Man rose his hands, “Hey, I didn't mean to offend you, I just―hey, your nose is bleeding.” Caelum rose a hand to his nose immediately. He saw Spider-Man lean forward, as if to further scrutinize him.under the shades of the silly dark goggles he wore.

Caelum looked away, “ _Get out_.”

“What did he do to you? I― _Peter_ told me to follow you after school and. . . well, he didn't say you looked this beat up.”

“Didn't I tell you to tell Parker to stop having you _babysit_ me?” Caelum snarled. “I'm going to call the police.”

“How are you going to explain _that_ ,” he made a wide gesture to his face, “To them?” Caelum scowled. He moved away, limping slightly, and sat on the bed.

“Why do you _care_?” Caelum asked. “You're just going to follow me around because Peter asked you to? How do you even know him? In fact, why would you even do that for him? Is he _paying_ you?”

“Paying me?” Spider-Man repeated, a bit incredulously.

“No, that's unrealistic, he's _cheap_.”

“ _Hey_ ―!” Spider-Man exclaimed defensively and Caelum rose an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. “I. . . I mean, Peter _isn't_ cheap. That not very fair.”

“He doesn't have enough to hire someone like you,” Caelum explained, then he shook his head. “I just can't understand why you would do this. Just leave me alone. Tell Peter that everything is fine ― it's better that way. I don't want him involved.”

“He just wants to help, Cael.”

“What's he going to do? I can't avoid him forever. Peter will only get in the way, I don't have time for that.”

“You can't deal with all this yourself,” Spider-Man said.”You need help.”

“I need to be left alone,” Caelum said. “I'll be fine. I've done this for this long, I can survive until senior year.”

“Do you really want to live like this? Look at yourself, Cael―”

“Don't call me that.”

“You won't live long enough to see your senior year if you keep this up!”

“I. . .” Caelum shook his head, “I really don't have a choice. I _need_ him.” His brother's couldn't go into the Foster System and be lost forever. He'd never forgive himself for it. “I'll make a plan, I'll think of something.”

Spider-Man was silent for a long few minutes. Then, he said, “I'm going to call the police.”

Caelum's heart leapt, “You _can't_ ―!”

“ _Cael_ ―” he jumped off the bed in seconds, but Spider-Man was faster. He webbed his hand to the mattress and his foot to the floor. Caelum glared at him, feeling the back of his next prickle, wanting to possess someone but being unable to.

“ _Let me go_!” He snapped. Spider-Man was pulling a phone out of his pocket. “ _Please_! Don't! Please!” Caelum begged.

“Cael, this isn't―” He froze. Then, Caelum heard the front door click, the lock turning.

He was fast, diving forward and pulling the webbing off his hand and foot. “Get in the closet!” Caelum hissed, towards the door across the room. Spider-Man dove for it, and Caelum closed the doors just as the bedroom door opened.

Principal Davis was red in the face and angry. He snarled at Caelum, who took a step back. “ _Sir_ ―”

“ _Shut up_!” He hissed, and Caelum swallowed, watching his movements carefully. He was still injured, there was no way he could outrun him. “Hiring some _bitch_ , thinking she can get away with that shit,” he growled, going to the side of the room, pouring himself a glass of Brandy. Caelum just watched, praying he didn't drink too much, if he did he would have a long night ahead of him.

“Sir,” Caelum started slowly, keeping his back pressed to the closet doors. He could hear Spider-Man breathing shallowly inside. Please, don't let this him be caught. “Is everything alright?”

This was wrong. His eyes flared immediately and his grip tightened on the glass in his hand. “ _No_!” He boomed, advancing on him. Caelum stumbled on his feet to get away. “ _Nothing_ is alright! Because of _you_ ,” he grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking Caelum forward. “My wife wants a _divorce_! She thinks I've been _'sleeping around_ ’!” He snarled, throwing Caelum on the ground with a heavy thud.

“I–I–I’m sorry about that, sir,” Caelum stammered, trying to get the situation under control.

“You'd _better_ be,” he snarled. “She thinks she's the boss of me! I can do whatever the _hell_ I want!”

“Ye–Yes,” Caelum glanced at the closet, making sure Spider-Man had stayed put.

He did, but Caelum could see the flash of his black goggles in the shutters of the closet. “ _Look at me_!” Principal Davis snapped, and Caelum turned his attention to him.

“I'm―”

“Get on the bed,” he ordered. Caelum froze, Spider-Man was in the closet. He knew Peter. If he told Peter, Peter would hate him. He couldn't do this. Not tonight.

“Please, sir, I―”

“Don't back talk me!” He snapped. “Do as I say, boy!”

“Maybe, you need a drink,” Caelum suggested. “To–To calm―” He was fast, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him over. Caelum dug his heels in the ground. “Wait! _Please_! No!”

Principal Davis punched him, twice, straight in the face. His head snapped back and his sight blurred with tears. Blood trickled down his nose, and he nearly didn't feel Principal Davis’ hands on his waist.

“ _No_ ,” he moaned, trying to turn and get away, he couldn't do this right now. He saw Principal Davis' rear back, ready to strike again.

The closet door opened, and he turned. Spider-Man came at him, webbing his hands together and then yanking him off Caelum. “What the _hell_ ―!?”

“You're _not_ going to touch him anymore,” Spider-Man snapped, sounding a new level of furious. Principal Davis tried to stand, but Spider-Man was relentless, webbing him to the floor and sealing his mouth.

Caelum stared at the man as he struggled and squirmed. This was _bad_. “I called the police,” Spider-Man said. “They'll be here soon. Can you walk? We're going to go down to the lobby.”

“I. . .” he couldn't stop staring at Principal Davis, he was glaring up at him, making the back of his neck tingle.

“Come on,” he grabbed Caelum’s arm gently, helping him up. He wrapped his arms around his shoulder, bringing him out of the apartment. Caelum was in a daze the entire time, unable to really understand what just happened.

Spider-Man called the police. Someone was going to come get Principal Davis. He was going to jail, just like his father.

“―Second time I've had to call police for you,” Spider-Man muttered and Caelum turned to him.

“ _Sorry_?” He wasn't listening.

“Nevermind.” They stepped into the elevator, silently going down to the first floor.

When they made it, a dark-haired, sullen-looking woman was standing there. She had a dark leather jacket and a camera around her neck. She rose and eyebrow, scrutinizing Caelum. “You're. . . a kid?” She said, almost surprised.

“Pardon?” She shook her head, sneering as Caelum and Spider-Man stepped out of the elevator.

Caelum heard her mutter, “Fucking _sicko_ ,” before the doors closed and she was gone.

The rest of the night was a blur. The police arrived, Spider-Man explained what he could then swung away. The paramedics treated his bruises, and luckily decided that he didn't have to go to the hospital. His nose just needed to be reset and he was to rest for a while.

The police went up the elevator. Sarah and Dorri came and hugged him, then yelled at him. The police came out the elevator, holding a bloody and bruised Principal Davis.

It was strange, Spider-Man didn't touch him. He vaguely wondered if that was the work of the sullen-looking woman. He didn't see her come down.

The police asked him to explain what happened. It took Caelum a minute to find his words, then he spoke.

He explained everything. He told the police that Principal Davis first started in ninth grade, taking him out for lunch and befriending him in-between and after classes. He would buy him gifts and make him happy. He was even paying the full scholarship for him, so he didn't have to get a job or tell his parents.

Then, he slowly stopped, and Caelum's debt to Principal Davis ran high. He was scared, but Principal Davis said that if he helped him out, he would waive the fees.

At first, it was small things, trying on clothes, talking, laughing at jokes, he didn't have a problem. Then, he told him to do darker things, kissing him, letting him lick his neck, taking his clothes off and showing him. He threatened to kick him out of the school if he didn't cooperate. His parents would have killed him if that happened, so he let him do what he wanted and he listened.

Then, Caelum had to get a job, because he had to pay for everything. The Shop hired him, and he worked as much as he could.

He did that all year, until the end of the year, he forced him on his knees and took off his pants. Caelum still had nightmares about it.

He came back next year and nothing changed. He kept paying and doing everything he told him to, until Peter found out and started protecting him. He started getting aggressive after that, beating him and strangling him.

He told the policemen what happened after his mother died, how he had him kidnapped and taken to the apartment. How he promised to help his brother's if he stayed with him. Caelum agreed and Principal Davis raped him.

“Why didn't ya _say_ anythin’!?” Dorri snapped angry tears coming down her face. She held Sarah close to her chest, who had been crying into her hands. “Why didn't ya tell someone?”

“We needed the money,” Caelum explained calmly. “I couldn't get kicked out of the school. My dad would have. . . my parents wouldn't have been happy.”

“ _Look_ ,” one of the officers said, anger all over his face. “That sick _bastard_ is going to get what's coming to him. We're going to need you to come in for some tests and a statement.”

Caelum gave a dull nod, he was tired. He followed the men to the police car, Sarah and Dorri following him. “One of you two should go back,” Caelum said. “So that the boys won't be left alone for long.”

Sarah rose an eyebrow and sniffed, “Oh, sweetie,” she said, rubbing at a teary eye. “The boys are gone."


	25. - 25 -

**chapter twenty-five:**

  
Caelum thought he was going to die.

At this point, he wouldn't question the likelihood of it. Principal Davis was in jail, along with his father and the ghost. His mother was dead, leaving him to take care of the boys. And the boys were gone.

The words seemed quite strange to Caelum. Sarah said that CPS came a few weeks ago to put them in the custody of their next relative, which was their aunt. Caelum didn't think his aunt would take custody of his brothers ― she didn't even come to his mother's funeral.

He called his aunt, vaguely remembering her phone number, and she confirmed that his brothers were not there.

Caelum remembered the police sending out an Amber Alert, it seemed very strange to him. Usually, hearing that, he thought of someone else's kid, some faceless child that meant nothing to him.

Now it was his brothers and they meant everything to him.

Caelum knew Principal Davis had something to do with it. He knew he orchestrated this just in case something didn't go as planned. He knew he should've just listened. He would have kept his brothers safe if he had just listened.

Sarah and Dorri rode with him to the hospital so he could get tested and have his DNA registered so that they'd have substantial evidence against Principal Davis. Spider-Man already gave an eyewitness account and had long been gone.

Caelum wished he could possess the enhanced man and make him keep his mouth shut. If he really knew Peter, he didn't want Peter to know what was going on with Principal Davis. Or, really he didn't want Peter to think differently of him because of it.

But he didn't have time for hopeless cases, he needed to find his brothers.

He hated every second he spent in the emergency room, he hated how long it took to get everything on file. And he hated how even after the police and the doctors let him go, Sarah and Dorri didn't.

"You need to rest, hun," Dorri said gently, rubbing his shoulder. Caelum wanted to shove her hand off. It felt so much like Principal Davis patting his head, it made him squeamish. He knew she wasn't Principal Davis, he knew she was good, but his head wouldn't get over it.

He tensed and kept very still, he didn't want to get hit if he flinched, but she didn't notice. "Let the police do their job, they'll find them, alright?"

"Sweetie," Sarah said, and placed a hand on Dorri's. She gently lifted it and Caelum gave a shuddering breath of relief.

"Oh," Dorri said softly. Then, she sighed, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't. . . I didn't mean to scare ya, I jus'. . ."

"Y–You're fine," he assured, even though his stomach was doing flips and his mind was streaming intense memories he didn't want to see or hear. "I just. . . I want my brothers to be safe." He wanted to change the subject. He wanted his mom back. He wanted his brothers home.

"We know, sweetie," Sarah said gently. "But right now, we need to focus on you. You're hurt, that man did terrible things to you. We'll let the police find your brothers while you heal, alright?"

"He took them," Caelum said finally. "Principal Davis, he took them."

Dorri rose an eyebrow, "How do ya know, hun?"

"He. . . he said that he would pay you two to host them, and then if. . . if I was good I'd be able to see them. He had them, I know he did. We have to find them. We have to make sure they're safe―!"

"Dorri and I will talk to the police," Sarah said. "For the time being, we'll go home and rest. We can talk to them in the morning, alright?"

" _But_ ―!"

"The officer said that if what that man was sayin' was true, if he promised to let you see you brothers, then there's a higher chance that they're still alive," Sarah explained sternly, her steely green eyes set. "We're not givin' up hope yet, but you can't be doin' this as best up as your as right now. It's far past midnight, you need to rest."

Caelum couldn't on argue with the woman, he knew from experience that to do so was useless. Not to mention that his limbs felt as heavy as steel and he had entered an new realm exhaustion. So much had happened that day, from waking up beside Principal Davis ― _again_ ― to school, to Peter dragging him away from the Principal. From there, he went from getting beat, to Spider-Man, to Principal Davis' arrest, to _this_.

So when he sat back inside the police car, it was completely justifiable that he fell asleep immediately.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum somehow woke up in his bed. He started at the ceiling for several minutes, then slowly turned to his side, expecting to see Principal Davis beside him, mostly naked and snoring in his ear.

Instead, he saw a pillow.

He started at the pillow for several minutes, as if it were completely impossible or unrealistic. He recognized the bed, or really the scent of it — peaches and vanilla beans — Sarah and Dorri's place, and the spare room. He remembered last night slowly, as if his memories where a leaky tap and had to keep dripping slowly.

He got beat up, which was probably why he felt so sore, but he didn't dwell on it. He remembered his brothers ― still missing. At least the police were searching for them now and they weren't just being forgotten.

He needed to get up, he needed to move. He slide it of the bed, throwing a shirt over his ratty boxes shorts, and opened the door.

He saw Peter on the couch, leaning precariously over the side, mouth gaping and a lot snore escaping. Caelum started at the boy, laughing at his position and the silliness of it.

At the sound of his voice, Peter moved, an eye opening. He saw Caelum starting at him, amused and blinked. " _Cael_?" He muttered, and closed his eyes again.

Then, he shot up, slipping and nearly breaking good neck. "Oh my God, _Cael_! You're awake!" He stumbled over to him, still looking half asleep, but managed to wrap his arms around him in a tight hug. Caelum stayed completely still, not like how he was last night with Dorri and reliving memories. Now, he was awkward and scared. Peter held onto him tight and Caelum didn't want to let him go. He wanted to have him hold on and smell Shea butter lotion forever.

" _Peter_ ―"

"I know what happened. I know _everything_ and, oh, my God, _Cael_ , why the _hell_ didn't you just tell me?! I asked you if something serious was going on! I saw the bruises and, _damn it_ ―" he pulled away, wiping at his own face, a few traitorous tears coming loose. Caelum was a bit disappointed for him to move away, but he was also keenly aware of his lower regions starting to wake up and get. . . _emotional_.

Caelum started at him and his tears. He started at the concept of Peter crying over him. Peter feeling guilty for him. He started at his adorably long eyelashes, that just caught a tear on it delicately.

Caelum wanted to kiss it.

Good, god, why couldn't he go to minutes without being hopelessly in love with him? Why _not_?!

"I apologise," he said in his serious, business tone he sometimes used to deflate his overwhelming love for Peter. "I'm sure Spider-Man told you everything you wanted to know, and. . . I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to. . . be friends with me, anymore."

Peter stared at him, "Cael, what are you talking about?" Caelum didn't want to explain it, he didn't want to put it into simpler words. He didn't even want to think about it.

"After. . . what he saw with Principal Davis, after what happened, I'm. . . I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to stop being friends. People will talk about me, I wouldn't be surprised if I got permanently expelled. But, I don't want you to end up losing friends because I―"

"Cael, _shut up,_ " Peter snapped and Caelum stopped talking immediately. "First of all, do you _really_ think so low of me that when something happens, I'm just going to pick up and _run_? Do you _really_ think our friendship is that flimsy? I mean, what the _hell_ , Cael!? You're one of my best friends, you and Ned and May are some of the closest people I have. I'd be a complete _idiot_ to brush you off like that ― especially when you need it most! I'm not going to leave because our Principal was an asshole who kidnapped you and made you do terrible shit! I'm not going to ditch you like that. Second of all, I'm hungry, so let's make breakfast."

He let go, leaving his skin tingling slightly where he had touched him, and went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, scanning it with meaning and emphasis.

Caelum stared at him, surprised and his words still sinking in. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to respond. He must have been standing there for a minute too long because Peter glanced over the side of the fridge door, one hand a carton of eggs, the other box of pancake mix, and between his teeth a bag of bread.

He spoke through the bread, somehow still managing to have that sunny grin that brightened his significantly darker world. "Areh yah gon' com' eat, or wha'?"

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The morning after with Peter was fun. They ate sloppily made eggs, played video games, cracked jokes, and talked. Eventually, Peter called Ned over and suggested that they should build their _AT-AT Walker_ Lego model.

At first, Caelum thought he was joking, but no. Ned showed up with a huge box labeled Lego _AT-AT Walker_ with a very interesting graphic on the side.

They started immediately, Peter turned on some music ― Caelum realised he didn't listen to a lot of today's music because he couldn't recognize any of the songs ― and they began to build. Peter tore the instructions into three halves after glancing over them for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Ned plugged in three hot glue guns. "Make sure you glue down _every_ piece," he instructed seriously, as if he was handing Caelum the Declaration of Independence.

"Okay," he said, but Ned looked very serious.

"If you don't, it'll come apart and everything will be ruined," he warned, and Caelum nodded.

"I understand, I will," he said, now more seriously. Ned seemed to accept this and they began their work.

The first couple hours were _grueling_. They hardly made progress, working slow as hell, and Caelum had to keep taking apart bricks because he forgot to glue them. Then, he would accidently put the wrong pieces together and have to pry them apart with a screwdriver. Or, he would mix the pieces together, or he couldn't find them.

All in all, the experience was very taxing, but eventually, their AT-AT had began to gain form, and soon detail. It took them four hours altogether, but they managed to finish it.

Caelum didn't know what an AT-AT Walker was, and when he saw the giant, camel-looking robot, he wasn't sure he wanted to. It was strange, with long legs, bulky feet, wide body. Caelum wasn't sure how the mechanics worked ― he hoped the thing had workable knee joints so it could actually move. Peter said that it was kind of like a tank or a twisted land-submarine, but he still wasn't sure.

After they finished, they decided to go to the store. Caelum made them wait for about ten minutes as he showered and dressed, but eventually he was ready and they left.

It was a strange experience hanging out with Ned and Peter. When he and Peter first starting coming back on speaking terms, Ned didn't like him at all ― mainly because Caelum _did_ push Peter down a flight of stairs ― but they grew close with time. Ned was funny, goofy, and an all around nice guy. He saw Caelum as a threat to Peter's safety, or a bully to Peter, and wanted to protect him. Caelum admired that in him and saw it as a formidable trait to have in a friend. He hoped one day Ned would feel the same level of protection for him.

They didn't do much, Peter insisted on going to a comic book/geek store that Caelum had never seen before. Caelum didn't really read comic books and wasn't allowed to be into superheroes as a kid.

But when he saw the very detailed cover of a Superman comic, with his detailed abs and tight tights, he was a _bit_ invested.

They laughed and had fun, Peter made him feel like he was actually part of the group and not just. . . _there_ , on the side. Caelum appreciate it, especially since if it were up to Ned, he wouldn't have been given the time of day.

Eventually, it was getting late, and Ned had to catch a taxi home. They waved him goodbye and made their way back to Sarah and Dorri's.

Caelum stopped a few blocks from the Café. "You head back, I have to do something."

"Do what?" Peter frowned.

Caelum waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, it'll only take a few minutes. I'll be back at Sarah and Dorri's soon. Do you have to go back to the apartment? I'm sure May wants you home, it's a school night. I don't want to get you in trouble."

Peter considered this and gave a semi-nod. "Okay, I gotta head back and grab my backpack. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Caelum smiled, pleased by the thought of actually being able to see Peter tomorrow. Of being able to hangout with him. "Sounds like a plan." He began to walk off, turning the corner and heading down toward the Shop, it should be open for a few more hours at least.

Caelum made it there without trouble and greeted Austin, who had been leaning near the side, drinking from a water bottle. "Hey, Caelum," he said, rubbing his hands on a dirty towel at his waste and tossing the plastic bottle. "How have you been?"

"Tired," he replied honestly. "I wanted to talk to Mr. Goldson,"

Austin waved a hand, "In the back." Caelum nodded and began to walk, but Austin stopped him. "I just wanted to say, uh. . ." he wrung his towel, biting his lip. "I'm sorry about your mom. You take it easy, alright? You deserve a break."

Caelum gave a grateful smile. He's been hearing that for the past several weeks, but he still hasn't gotten used to it.

"Thank you, Austin. I appreciate it," Austin smiled and let him go. Caelum walked to Mr. Goldson's office, "Mr. Goldson?" He called, and the man looked up. He was wearing reading glasses and had what Caelum assumed was tax information surrounding him.

"Caelum," Mr. Goldson always growled his name, like a turning over motor. Caelum used to find it annoying, now he thought it comforting. Something familiar that he knew. "What are you doing here? Aren't you takin' a break?"

"Yeah, but," he frowned, "I just wanted to know if I could come back soon? I don't want the work to get overwhelming for you, and I―"

"You're fired." Caelum blinked, the words striking him right in the chest.

"I–I'm sorry?" He stammered.

"I said, you're fired." Mr. Goldson rose from his seat and looked over at Caelum, folding his hands on the desk. "I know a lot has been goin' on with you. I know you've been dealin' with a lot, concernin' your dad, now your ma, and I remember your sister way back when. Son, what I want you to do is go home. Go back to school ― I know you dropped out of that rich school too, _dumbass_. I don't wanna see a young, hard workin' black man like you being stuck in places like _this_. Get your degree, kick some _ass_. I wanna see your diploma, alright? Let someone else handle your siblin's and your dad. Think about you. Be _selfish_ , for God's sake. I don't want to see you back here workin'. I want to see you at that school, you got me?"

Caelum was staring at him. "Sir, I. . ."

"You don't need this job," he waved a hand. "You don't need this place! I don't pay you enough anyway ― don't tell Austin that," he gave him a wry grin. "Go back to that school with that boy you came with, alright?"

"Sir―"

"Don't fuckin' ' _sir_ ' me!" He snapped, but then gave him a grin with all his missing teeth. "Go be a damn _kid_."

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum walked away without another word. Austin gave him a pat on the back, telling him to " _come visit them_ " when he had the chance.

He didn't have anything to carry, all his things were given to him by Mr. Goldson, but the thought of it still irked him. Well, the entire situation was still strange. Mr. Goldson fired him ― but said that he could come back over the summer if he could prove that he got his grades higher.

Caelum walked down the darkened streets, his arms drawn close as he made his way to Sarah and Dorri's. What was he going to do now? He still had Delmar, but he couldn't work full time, or the hours he probably wanted him to. He still had the Café, but he only really helped with clean-up, not full day shifts.

He could always get a new job, but a part of him hesitated, and for good reason. Mr. Goldson said to take a break, why didn't he just do that? He could go back to school now, he could live easily now. Principal Davis was gone, his dad had no real hold on him, and Peter was right _there_.

And what about this ability? Was he just supposed to forget about it? He wondered what it was like for Spider-Man, did he just wake up one day able to shoot webs out of his wrists? Did he have an accident, like Caelum? Could Caelum actually use his power and _help_ people?

But, he didn't like possessing people and he didn't want to get involved in places that didn't, well, _involve_ him. He didn't want people getting hurt because he was being nosy.

But, he didn't have to look for trouble. He could do little things, that still kept him in disguise. He didn't have to go swinging around the city in a red and blue hoodie. He could stick to the streets, and smile at people. He could be in the front lines, but completely disguised.

He could use his power of possession for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> Just a bit of an update, I finished writing the last chapter for this story as of writing this note. (I know! So sad!!) I am now editing and reviewing it, but yeah, I've finished. 
> 
>  
> 
> So, for more aestethic purposes, I really want to post the last chapter on October 10th -- which is my birthday, for those of y'all who don't know. Now, in order to do that, I'll have to post a I think two or three chapters earlier than usual. 
> 
> So, for the weeks leading up to the last chapter, I'll be posting a new chapter on Friday along with the Sunday and Wednesday chapters, that way the final chapter can be posted Wednesday, October 10th.
> 
> From there, the story will hopefully have the first chapter of the next story published on January 1st, and then the next chapter will come out either January 21st or February 1st (depending on my mood).
> 
> If you don't already know, on the first month of every year, I try to write as much as possible. So, for each story that I am continuing, I stockpile chapters so that I can either have them ready for a consistent posting rate, or just on standby in case I get antsy. Of course, throughout the year, story ideas pop up -- like this one, or Blue -- and I either incorporate it into my posting schedule or rework it completely, depending on how I feel.
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long note. If all goes well, the last chapter will be on 10/10, officially ending this story, and the first chapter of the sequel will be 1/1.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support! I know this story has been and absolute rollercoaster of emotions. I love reading each and everyone of your comments and I sincerely hope you will join me in the continuation of Cael and Peter's story!
> 
> I'll see y'all next time and remember...
> 
> Don't melt~!  
> \- Happyritas 


	26. - 26 -

**c** **hapter twenty-six:**

  
The first thing Caelum did with this new epiphany of knowledge was go to Sarah and Dorri's. He planned as he cleaned and even more so as he got ready for bed.

He was going to go to police station, possess one of the police men, and force him to let him talk to Principal Davis. He needed to find out where his brothers were. He needed to get them back.

There were holes in this plan, obviously. Sarah and Dorri wouldn't let him out of their sight, but if he said he was going to school, they might be a bit more lenient. Then, there was this fact of not seeming suspicious, which he could do easily. He also had to get to the police station, and confirm whether or not Principal Davis was even there.

It had only been a two days and he knew that the police could hold him for at maximums of three days. Today would be his only chance. If Principal Davis wasn't there, he'd go to the _Manhattan Detention Complex_ , which is where he heard an officer say it was likely he would be held. It would be harder to get in, but Caelum would manage it, and he would get the man to tell him where his brothers were.

He couldn't afford distractions, he had only a day to make this work, and he was running out of time. He went to sleep early so he could leave earlier than usual. The next morning, when he got up, he was surprised to see Peter on the couch, grinning at him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, grabbing an apple. He couldn't have the boy here, not today of all days.

“I had a hunch,” he shrugged. “I thought you'd want some company today, if you're going to school. If you don't, I'm totally fine with it. I just―”

“Go to school, Parker,” Caelum dismissed him, biting into the apple, and Peter rose an eyebrow.

“Are you coming too?” He asked.

“I have work,” he lied.

“At seven AM?”

“I need a new job. I. . .” he hesitated, balancing the truth with his lie. “I was fired.”

“Fired!?” The news shocked him, and Caelum didn't blame him. “Why were you fired!?”

“Conflict of interest,” he said, lying even more.

“I'm so sorry, Cael,” Peter frowned, and Caelum gave a kind of small smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He continued to walk, but Peter didn't let up.

“How about I go with you?” Peter suggested, “To help you find a new job?”

Caelum sighed, rubbing his forehead. “No, go to school, you can't afford to miss anymore days.”

“Neither can you! Besides, Sarah and Dorri won't let you go anywhere by yourself, not since you disappeared on us.”

Caelum frowned, “I didn't _willingly_ disappear,” he said, and Peter’s face fell, realizing what he said.

“Wait, I didn't mean it like that―”

“Just, _go_ ,” Caelum said, “I can handle myself.”

“No, I still want to come.” Caelum groaned, he was wasting _time_!

He threw his hands in the air and began walking, “Fine! _Whatever_! Just, _no_ complaining and _no_ questions!”

“Alright!” Peter grinned, significantly cheerier.

He followed Caelum out of the apartment and down these to steps. Downstairs, the Café was opening up, the usual morning visitors trickling in a few at a time. “Mornin’!” Sarah greeted, “You boys eat yet?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Caelum said, and Peter looked at him.

“All you had was a apple,” he accused, and Caelum frowned.

“I'm not that hungry ― I'll pick up something else on the way,” he assured the women. “Peter and I are going out, we'll be back later.”

“Ya know to call if ya need anythin’,” Dorri said as she took a customer's cash.

“Yes, ma'am,” Caelum responded, only getting a glance at the man. He looked familiar with his jacket zipped up to cover the bottom half of his face. His dark eyes glaring at Caelum as they passed. Caelum frowned, but didn't say anything as they left the Café.

He and Peter walked for a while to the police station on the far side of the city. It was a an two hours away from their location, with morning traffic, but Peter didn't seem to mind. He did, however, question the distance while he was in the crowded subway.

“Why are you looking for jobs so far away?” Peter asked while they waited for their stop.

“It's closer to the school,” he lied easily, leaning on his palm, looking out the dark, tunnel window.

“What kind of job are you looking for?”

“I don't know.”

Peter was quiet for a few minutes. “ _Cael_?”

“Yes, Parker?”

“Are you okay?” Caelum rose an eyebrow. “I know with what happened with. . . Principal Davis and your brothers can be a lot, but. . . you can talk to me, you know? I'm not exactly going anywhere.”

Caelum let out a small smile and gave a half nod, “I know, Parker. I'm just. . . thinking.”

“About _what_?” _You_. _Always_ about _you_.

“A lot of big things, a lot of small things,” he gave a half shrug. “ A lot has happened. I'm just. . . trying to clean it up.”

“Then, ask for help.” Caelum looked down, pushing his lips tight.

“I don't think it's that simple,” he admitted. How could he explain to Peter his. . . _ability_? Would Peter look at him strange? Would he care?

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“You wouldn't understand,” Caelum said, and then glanced up, their stop was next. “Come on, we get off here.”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
They walked to the police station, and opened the doors. Caelum looked around, frowning, trying to see where he could get into the holding cells from where they were. He had to see if Principal Davis was still here. “What are we doing here?” Peter asked, looking around. “I thought you said you were going to look for a job?”

“I am,” he lied. “Come on,” he waved them over to a chair and sat down.

A woman glanced over, and rose an eyebrow. “Do you two need something?”

Caelum smiled, “Yes, ma'am. I am Algol Caelum Forest, the victim in the case against Andrew Davis. Is there an officer I can speak with? I have a few more things I thought was important to share.” He looked her over, she wore a standard uniform, and her stringy blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. But, she did wear pearls around her neck and silver hanging earrings. “I _love_ your earrings, ma'am. My mother had a pair just like those. They definitely compliment your pearls, they are _gorgeous_.”

She rose an eyebrow and a red tint dusted her cheeks. “Thank you very much, and I know what case you're talking about. Detective Mahoney is the one heading that one, I'll call him in. You two boys have a seat.” She waved a hand to the chairs they were sitting and he gave he another charming smile before tugging Peter away.

“I thought you were looking for a _job_ ,” Peter accused in a sharp whisper. “You didn't say anything about Principal Davis.”

“This is just a detour,” he supplied, and saw the woman grab the phone on the table, punching in a number to speak. He gave her another smile and she smiled back.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?” He asked.

“You didn't ask.”

“ _Cael_ ―”

He shushed him, watching as a man came out of a back room. He was black and also wore a police uniform. On his chest was the tag, **MAHONEY** , along with his ID number.

Caelum stood, and approached him, Peter following along. “Hello, sir,” he said, holding out his hand. He vaguely remembered him from the other night, asking questions.

The man shook it firmly, “Mrs. Dabney says that you have some more information for us?”

“Yes, I thought it would be important to give the descriptions of the men who kidnapped me,” Caelum said carefully. He had to time this precisely, or else his entire plan would fall to ruins.

Detective Mahoney nodded, “Okay. I can get you a sketch artist.”

“ _Wait_!” He stopped the man from calling someone over. “Is–Is he― _Principal Davis_ , is he still being held here?” He asked, wrinkling his eyebrows in concern.

Detective Mahoney gave a pitying look, “Yes, but he is still detained. There is no way he could get to you. We'll keep you safe.”

Good, he was in the building. “I just wanted to know, because I think I can get him to tell me where my brothers are.”

Detective Mahoney rose an eyebrow. “I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he said. “Based on the evidence we gathered, and your testimony, it would be in your best interests to stay away from him.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed. “I just want to find my brothers. Please, sir.” He looked him in the eyes and blinked.

He didn't have much time in this man's body. “Alright. You can see him ― but only five minutes.” He blinked, going back to his body.

“Thank you, sir,” he smiled, and he frowned.

“I'm sorry?” He asked, confused.

“For giving me five minutes with Principal Davis.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Yes, you did,” he frowned, glancing at Mrs. Dabney. “Didn't you hear him, ma'am?”

“You did, Mahoney,” she agreed, and he looked her in the eyes, blinking.

“You said five minutes with the man. You can be right outside the door anyway.” He looked back at his eyes and blinked.

“Thank you, ma'am,” he smiled, and Detective Mahoney furrowed his eyes at the woman. “I appreciate it,” he looked back at Mahoney. “Will you take me to him? I won't take long. I want to find my brothers as soon as possible.” He blinked.

“Yes, of course,” he said in Mahoney's body, then went back to his own.

“Thank you sir,” he grinned, but Mahoney just looked confused.

“Mahoney, you'll have to talk to the Super about this,” Mrs. Dabney warned, before turning and going to her desk.

“ _Wait_ ,” Peter said, behind him. He grabbed Caelum's arm and Caelum flinched immediately. “Before you go, I need to talk to Cael for a minute.” Then, Peter was dragging him away with a surprising amount of strength, down the hall and to an empty restroom.

“What the _hell_ was that?!” Peter demanded, staring at him.

“What was what?” Caelum frowned.

“You just. . . you did _something_ to them. What did you just do?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Caelum lied. He had to hurry before Detective Mahoney changed his mind, and he would have to start from square one ― again.

“Don’t lie to me, Caelum,” Peter said sternly, and suddenly, he could hear his father's words in his head.

_“Don't lie to me, boy!”_

He was angry. He pulled away, shaking with the memory. “I don't know what you're talking about, but I have to go before Detective Mahoney changes his mind. I need to find my brothers.” He turned to get away, but Peter held him back again.

“Cael,” he warned. “Don't get yourself in trouble. Whatever you’re about to do, don't get yourself in trouble for it.”

Caelum didn't say anything. He pushed the door, walking out. He found Detective Mahoney and Mrs. Dabney talking along with a few other officers. He felt his stomach twist, he didn't think he’d be able to trick these many people. The most he's done in the same body is two, much less nearly four.

A woman looked over and gave a smile, “Apparently, Detective Mahoney told you you could talk with Mr. Davis, is that right?”

“Yes, ma'am. For five minutes.”

“And what are you going to do during these five minutes, Mr. Forest?” He shivered at the title, the memories flashing in the back of his mind.

“I'm going to ask him for my brothers.”

“That's all?”

“I think so, yes.”

They all exchanged looks, finally a man spoke up. “ _Son_ ―”

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, suddenly nervous and desperate and sad. “I just want. . . I want to try. Please, let me try.” He looked at all of them, silently begging them to let him try without using his ability.

The woman rose an eyebrow to the two men, and they shrugged. “Alright, five minutes. Mahoney, I want you there with him.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, and jerked his head to the side. “Come on, kid. You got five minutes.” He could have melted on the spot and hurried over, following close on the heels of the man. He glanced behind him once to see Peter watching them as they left, a frown on his face.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Detective Mahoney stopped in front of a door, and Caelum felt his heart pounding suddenly. Every single moment with the man suddenly appeared at the forefront of his mind, all of them pushing and shoving for recognition and importance. The worst of them pushing the farthest.

He swallowed, his hands shaking. He wished Peter were here to helped him, to ground him, but Peter was not happy with him right now.

This was _his_ job, _his_ responsibility. _He_ needed to find his brothers and nobody else.

Detective Mahoney pushed a key in the door's lock, Caelum drew in a breath. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” He didn't sound ready. Somehow, he prepared himself for everything except this. Except _him_.

“I'll be right there, okay kid? If you want to end early, I'll be right behind this door.” Just get up, and knock three times, alright?” Caelum nodded, and Detective Mahoney unlocked the door.

Caelum stepped inside, watching Principal Davis with watchful eyes. The man looked up, and smiled.

He was wearing the same clothes as two days ago, and he could smell it on him. He had a bit of stubble growing in his face and chin, and his eyes were cold.

Caelum closed the door and moved to sit down. “Sir,” he greeted.

“Mr. Forest,” he smiled.

“I would like to know where my brothers are, sir,” he said simply. His smile grew wider; Caelum's skin crawled.

“I remember promising to bring you to them if you were good, Mr. Forest. Do you believe you earned it?”

“No sir,” he replied and Principal Davis laughed. Caelum flinched slightly, trying desperately to suppress his fear. It was like trying to get every last bit of air out of an air mattress ― it came out slowly and dwindled over time.

“Then why should I tell you, Mr. Forest.”

“Because I asked nicely, sir.”

He laughed again. “That's no reason for me to tell you.” Caelum stared at him for a moment, then blinked.

It was disgusting, in his tormentor's body. It smelt rotten and tasted stale. His genitals was hardened and swelled and made him sick to think that _he_ was the reason for that. He was quick, smacking his forehead into the metal table.

It hurt badly, his forehead throbbing and his head lolled and eyes dazed for a moment. He looked back in his eyes, and blinked.

The pain was there, but distant now, like a bad memory. Caelum stared at the man as he got his bearings straight. “God _damn_. . .!” He gasped, unable to rub his temples due to the cuffs on his wrists.

“Where are my brothers, Principal Davis?” Caelum asked again, and the man looked at him, confused.

“ _What_?”

“Where are my brothers, sir?” He repeated simply.

The man glared at him. Caelum blinked again. In Principal Davis’ body, he slammed his head against the table. Then, he looked back at himself.

The man was bleeding and looked very puzzled. “Where are my brothers, sir?”

“How are you doing this?” He demanded, confused and angry.

“I am not touching you, sir,” he replied. “But, I believe if you keep banging your head against a metal table, you may end up with a serious concussion, or brain damage. Where are my brothers?”

“I don't know―” Caelum blinked. He hit his head again. He let out a cry of pain, god it hurt. He looked back at his body. “ _Stop it_!” He gasped, groaning.

“Where are my brothers, sir?”

“I don't―” He banged his head against the table. “The _office_!” He gasped, “They're in the office on West 57th Street! 5–553! Now, stop!”

Caelum let out a small, nearly insignificant, smile. “Thank you for your confession, sir.” He rose from the table, and went for the door, knocking three times.

Detective Mahoney opened the door, then looked at Principal Davis, his eyes widened. “What did you―!?”

“I never touched him,” Caelum said. “He just kept hitting his head on the table, but he said that he was holding them in an office building on West 57th Street.”

“How do I know you're not lying to me?” He growled.

“Look at the tape,” Caelum said, motion to the security tape recording in the corner of the room. “Thank you, Detective Mahoney, for letting me speak with him.”

Detective Mahoney didn't say anything, but Principal Davis did. “That man should have _killed_ those brats with your mother like I told him! They were distracting you from what was important ― _me_!” He snapped, and Caelum froze, “It's a damn shame he failed!”

Caelum slowly turned around, everything slowly coming out of focus until it was just him and Principal Davis. He heard someone speak to him, he felt someone grab his arm. He was screaming, the back of his neck burned like fire.

He was suddenly in Principal Davis’ body, then he was in Detective Mahoney's body, then back in his own.

Principal Davis was repeated smashing his skull against the table, Detective Mahoney was standing there, holding his gun out and pointing it at the man. He fired, but missed. It hit the wall. Caelum jumped, and everything stopped.

Principal Davis laid slumped against the chair, his face bleeding, his chest barely rising. Detective Mahoney also fell forward, the gun falling from his hands and hitting the floor. Caelum stared at the Principal, shocked by what he had done and at the same time glad. It was sickening, he didn't like it at all.

He heard footsteps coming up down the hall, and jumped. He was gasping for air, his eyes wide and panicked. He hurt him, he didn't mean to kill the man ― but he wanted to ― he hurt him and the officer.

Principal Davis killed his mother. Principal Davis tried to kill his brothers.

He was probably dead. He was bleeding out. A strong part of Caelum didn't care, let the old asshole die. Another saw Principal Davis’ body and then saw his own, how he had been, bloody and bruised, both on the floor of his father and his. He didn't want to be like them, he didn't want to hurt people because he could, because how easy it was. It was wrong, it didn't matter who it was, hurting people say wrong.

Someone approached them, their gun raised and pointed at him. “Put your hands when I can see them, kid,” the officer said sternly. “ _Now_.”

“I―” he stammered, unable to look away from the body. “I didn't. . . I. . .” He suddenly thought about his confession. His mom, his brothers.

_His mom._

“He killed her,” he breathed. He saw Detective Mahoney open his eyes and look up, dazed and confused. “He has my brothers, he killed her.”

“ _Mahoney_! What happened here?” Another officer said. He couldn't look away, he couldn't help himself.

“I don't. . .” He winced, holding his head.

“What's going on, Mahoney?”

Detective Mahoney looked over, seeing the guns pointed at them, then he turned to see Principal Davis’ still body. He blinked, remembering what happened. “Put your guns down! Call an ambulance! Severe self-inflicted head trauma.” He turned to his shoulder to speak into his radio, rattling off some code Caelum didn't understand.

Someone grabbed him yanking him around and pressing him to the floor. Then, he was cuffed, and led away. Caelum didn't speak, he stared at the ground, tears in his eyes.

Caelum didn't want to hurt people, he didn't want to kill anyone. He didn't want to be like the people who hurt him, the people who pushed him to limits he could not live with.

But the man who was lying still on the table had his mother murdered and was holding his brothers somewhere else.

Caelum hoped he died on the way to the hospital.


	27. - 27 -

** chapter twenty-seven: **

  
“I never touched him,” Caelum said firmly as he stared at the two police officers in front of him. One was standing, leaning over the table, aggravated, while the other sat calmly. Their name tags read Watson and York respectively.

“Then why would Davis ask you to stop?” Officer Watson demanded.

“I don't know, but I never touched Principal Davis. I simply asked where my brothers were. He was the one who beat himself up.”

“That makes no sense, kid,” Officer York frowned. “You weren't even supposed to be in the same room as the man, why would he do that to himself?”

“I don't know,” Caelum sighed, “Maybe he felt guilty for what he did. Maybe he was begging God for forgiveness. You'll have to ask him.”

“I would, but the man is in a _coma_ ,” Watson snapped. Caelum's eyebrow twitched, he didn't know he did that much damage.

“That's not my problem,” Caelum frowned. “I'm sorry, but I'm not responsible for what inflicted wounds Principal Davis did to himself but me being in the same room as him was purely coincidental.”

The officers looked at each other, angry and frustrated. “Can I go, now?” He asked, he wanted to look at the place they said. He had to find his brothers.

“You're not going anywhere until we get some answers,” Watson snapped.

Caelum glared at the man for moment before schooling his expression and sitting up straight. “All right then, sir. Is that all?”

“What about Mahoney?” York asked. “Why was he unconscious when we found you.”

“You'll have to ask him about his physical state and health status,” Caelum shrugged. “I can't tell you a damn thing.”

“Listen _here_ , kid,” Watson leaned across the table, Caelum felt his heart beat rise, expecting to get hit. He leaned away as far as he could with his hands cuffed to the table, but the second one held his arm, pulling him back.

“Andrew Davis beat the shit out of you,” York stared clearly, as if reading the weather report. “Then, he fucked you, inside _and_ out. You experience this for nearly a _year_ on a weekly basis, at least. Why would you even want to be in the same room as him?”

“I had to find my brothers.”

Officer York jumped at him, his hands outstretched for his throat, and he pulled away, his eyes wide, “ _No! Please_!” He begged immediately, the words slipping out of him before he could process them. The handcuffs rubbing at the skin on his wrists, probably making them bleed.

His hands never even made it close to him. He moved back, watching his scared form as he tried to get himself to breathe again. “You're _scared_ , Algol. You're scared of _him_.”

Caelum wasn't listening anymore, he could feel his hands tightening around his throat. He choked back tears and closed his eyes for a minute, trying to breathe. “Jesus, Calvin,” Officer Watson muttered. “Give the kid a heart attack, why don't you?”

“He was a threat to you,” he continued, ignoring his partner. “He claimed to have your mother murdered, so you attacked him. Was it revenge, Algol? _Anger_?” Caelum didn't say anything, he stared at his hands, tired ― he was so tired.

“I never touched him,” he said softly.

“Did you _hurt_ him?”

“I never touched Principal Davis.”

“Answer my question, Algol.”

“Don't call me that, sir,” Caelum said flatly. “I prefer Caelum.”

“And I prefer to be at home with my wife and kids ― look at us.” He was quiet, “Tell us what you did to him.”

“Have I been charged with a crime yet?” He asked.

“Other than being an accessory to assault,” Watson noted.

“I didn't lay a hand on Principal Davis.”

“You didn't stop him either.”

“You expect me to help save the life of the same man who tried to take mine?” He asked, “You expect me to help the man who would _beat_ me every other night, _rape_ me, make me do things for him that _still_ keeps me up at night? You expect me to _help_ that kind of man?”

“I expect you to be the better person and not hurt him,” York said.

“I _never_ touched Principal Davis,” Caelum hissed. “My skin _never_ came in contact with his. My hands _never_ touched him.”

“Then why is he in a coma?”

“We're getting nowhere,” Caelum sighed. “We'll be arguing for hours.”

“And we _will_ until we get some answers,” Watson snapped. Then, the door opened.

Caelum looked over, two men stepped in, one was blonde with his hair combed back and a bit pudgy. But he had a smile on his face and wore a suit. The other was taller, leaner, and had on an identical suit and a straight face. However, he had on a pair of completely black spectacles and held a black walking stick. He was blind.

“Foggy,” York greeted, “Matt. What are you doing here?”

“We're here to represent him,” the first man said.

“I never asked for a lawyer,” Caelum said immediately. Much less, _two_. He didn't have a job, he couldn't pay for this!

“We know,” The other man said, the leaner one. “But a friend of ours asked us to help you. We can discuss financials later.” Caelum stared at the man, remembering how Principal Davis liked to ' _discuss_ ’ financials. He didn't want to go through that again, he didn't want to get hurt again.

“Who asked you to come?” Watson asked suspiciously. It was a very recent case, who would know to come and help him?

“Mahoney,” the bigger man said. “He advised us here. Do you mind if we speak with our client alone?”

“No, I don't want you here,” Caelum said immediately, his heart thundering. “I don't need a lawyer.”

“You're a minor, kid,” Watson said, standing up straight. “You'll need to ask your parents that.” Caelum wanted to throw something. He sat farther in his seat as the two men left leaving him in the room with the lawyers, alone.

Caelum was terrified, but he tried not to show it. He stared at his hands, which were shaking. “Let's start off with names,” the kinder lawyer said. “I'm Foggy Nelson and this is my partner, Matthew Murdock. Your name is. . .” He flipped through a paper. “Algol Forest?”

“ _Caelum_ ,” he said, trying not to winced at the name.

“Caelum, alright. Can you tell us what happened, Caelum?”

“I don't need a lawyer,” he said again.

“Why?” Matthew asked.

“I can't. . .” he swallowed, “I can't pay for one. I can't afford it.”

“Don't worry about that, alright?” Foggy assured, “Let's go over what happened.”

“No, I don't need a lawyer,” Caelum insisted. “I don't want to go over what happened!”

“Are you _scared_ , Mr. Forest?” Caelum flinched immediately at the title, remembering the still body of the man on the table.

“I'm not. . .” That was a lie. “I don't need a lawyer.” He glanced at the door, wishing it were open so he could scream, so he'd have a chance if something happened.

“What are you scared of?” Matthew continued. “Is it true, did you assault Mr. Davis?”

“No, I never touched him,” he said firmly.

“At all?”

“The recordings, they prove it.” He looked at the man again, maybe he could possess him and convince his friend to leave him alone? “I don't need a lawyer, sir.”

“Are you. . . afraid of _us_?” Foggy suddenly asked and he pressed his lips together.

“No, I'm _not_. I just―I believe I can handle this myself.”

“Mr. Forest,” he inhaled slightly, and Matthew stopped. “ _Caelum_ ,” he amended. “We're trained professionals. You'll be way in over your head if you do this alone. Besides, it'll be an easy case if what you say is true.”

“If it's an easy case, why are you here?” Caelum snapped. “Go home, sir. I don't want you here ― I don't want a lawyer.”

The other man was flipping through a file, frowning, “It says here that. . . Mr. Davis is in custody because he kidnapped you and repeatedly assaulted you? Is this true?” He didn't want him to do this. He didn't want to read through the rest of that file. “And, before the kidnapping, he. . .” Foggy stopped. “ _Oh_.”

“What's wrong?” Matthew asked. Foggy turned and whispered something to him. Caelum could see the man’s face shift from serious to concerned. “ _Oh_. . .” he looked back at Caelum. He turned away, feeling his face burn with shame. He didn't have to possess Foggy to know what they just read.

“Let's start over, alright?” Foggy smiled gently at him. Caelum stared at the table. “My name is Foggy and this is my friend Matthew. You must be Mr. Forest―”

“ _Caelum_ ,” Matthew corrected. “You must be Caelum. And, to make the record clear, Caelum, we're _not_ going to do anything to you if you are unable to pay us. We just want to help.” Caelum hated how he needed that reassurance, but as soon as the man said it, he felt himself relax. “Can we get started now?”

He was tired. He sighed, looking away. “I want to go home,” he admitted ruefully, and Foggy smiled.

“You can, as soon as we finish.” Caelum nodded. “Tell us what happened.”

Caelum explained everything, how he came to the police building and asked to talk with Principal Davis, and they agreed ― albeit unwillingly, but the didn't need to know that. Then, Detective Mahoney escorted him upstairs and he talked to Principal Davis.

“I asked him where my brothers were. He refused to give up the information,” Caelum explained and Foggy narrowed his eyes.

“So he slammed his skull into a metal table.”

“Yes.”

“But, the recording says that he asked you to stop.”

“Yes, but I never touched him.” Caelum shrugged. “Maybe he was mentally unstable, with the arrest and all.”

“And what about Brett?” Foggy asked. “He tried to shoot him.”

“I don't know,” Caelum lied. “Maybe he saw Principal Davis as a threat. It was in his hands.”

“You didn't hurt Mr. Davis?” Matthew asked, and Caelum frowned.

“I never touched him, sir.”

“But did you hurt him?”

“How could he have hurt him if he never touched him?” Foggy asked, confused.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Caelum agreed.

“There's something wrong here,” Matthew said. “Brett would never try to shoot a man like that.”

Caelum shrugged and Foggy frowned. “In any case, the police haven't charged you of anything yet, but they're allowed to hold you here at least overnight.” Caelum's heart skipped a beat at the thought.

“Nothing's going to happen to you while you're here,” Mathew assured.

“Can I stay somewhere else overnight? I'll come back if you need me tomorrow.” That was a lie. Caelum was never stepping foot in Hell’s Kitchen again, if he could help it.

“Sorry,” Foggy shrugged. “That's just how it works.”

“We advise you not to say anything else to the police without us being there,” Matthew said, grabbing his things. “You should be fine.”

Caelum stared at them as they got up to leave, his heart pounding at the idea of staying here. His imagination spurred at the things the police may do to him because he didn't give up information. And, he was the reason Detective Mahoney was probably in trouble, which would fuel their resentment even more.

They would have killed him, and would be completely justified in doing do. He manipulated them, used them, and look where he was.

He said he was going to use his power for good, and now he was here because he used it for his own self gain. How is that _good_? How is that _right_?

“How about this,” Matthew spoke, still standing at the door, not opening it yet. Caelum raised an eyebrow, letting the man continue. “I _might_ be able to convince them to let you stay at my place for the night. Foggy and our secretary, Karen can come over, if they want to. In the morning, we'll come back here and finish questions. By then, your twenty-four hours should be up.”

Caelum frowned, that didn't sound quite right, and he didn't want to impose on them, but at the same time, the thought of staying here overnight terrified him.

So he nodded his agreement, then remembered the man was blind. “Oh, yeah, sorry, uhm, yes.” Matthew smiled, chuckling a little.

“Good. We'll be back.” He turned and left with his partner, closing the door behind them.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened again. A police officer stepped in. He expected Matthew and Foggy to be back, and give their ' _verdict_ ’ but instead, Peter stepped in.

Peter did _not_ look happy. His face was a very irritated shade of red, that exposed his freckles. His arms were crossed and his eyes narrowed. His mouth was turned down a frown. “Parker,” Caelum greeted, but that seemed to only make his anger worse.

“Don't ' _Parker_ ’ me!” He snapped. “Do you know how long I've been waiting to see you? One minute, you're going upstairs with an officer, the next, an _ambulance_ is here and they're rushing Principal Davis out on a stretcher! What the _hell_ did you do?”

Caelum glanced at the officer in the corner, remembering his instructions for not to speak. “I'm. . . not at liberty to say. . .” He said, and the officer scoffed.

“I'll leave, but the door stays open,” Peter nodded, thanking the man, and left the door halfway open for them to have a semblance of privacy.

“What _happened_ , Cael?” Peter repeated, but a lot more gently.

Caelum's heart ached and he looked away, sighing. “I. . . he said he had my mom killed,” Peter's eyebrows rose and Caelum bowed his head, trying not to remember his brothers in the cafe, covered in her blood. Their tears, and the nightmares they still had to this day. “He said the shooter was supposed to get my brothers too, but didn't. He. . .” His voice cracked and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “He killed my _mom_ , Peter. He killed her because I left.” The realization was suddenly hitting him. He killed his mother because he couldn't find Caelum. He said his mother and his brothers ― his family ― was a distraction.

Peter came over to him and grabbed his shoulders. He hugged him and Caelum let out a sob, his mother was dead because of him. He killed his mom because he didn't do as he was told.

“It's not your fault,” he assured and Caelum shook his head.

“It–It _is_ ,” he said, “He killed her because I left. He tried. . . he took my brothers so I would stay in check. He took _everything_ from me. If my brothers die. . . if he kills my brothers, I. . . I don't know what I would do.” He would die. If he killed his brothers, he would die.

“ _Cael_ ,” Peter said softly, but Caelum pulled himself away, wanting to rub the tears off his face, but his hands were still cuffed to the table. He rubbed his face on the sleeves of his shirt instead, sighing a little. “I'm so sorry,” he said, but Caelum shook his head. He needed to get his act together!

He closed his eyes and breathed, he could think about that another time. Right now, he needed to go find his brothers, or at least see what was going on.

“Thank you, Parker,” Caelum said, looking away. He didn't have time for tears, not right now. “I appreciate it.”

“Don't do this, Cael,” Peter warned and Caelum blinked, confused. “You always do this. Don't push me away, _every time_ I try to help ― _every time_ I want to help, you always turn in that. . . that cold mask and seem unconcerned. Talk to me ― _tell me_ what's wrong and what's going on. I want to help you ― I want to be there for you.”

Caelum stared at him. Then, for some reason, his mind shifted to when he and Peter were sleeping together, or really sleeping in the same bed together, and Peter pulled him close. He remembered him holding him, as if the world was burning. He remembered how near he was, how he could hear the boy's breathing and feel his heart against his own. He remembered his warmth, and the sudden safety he felt from it, as if nothing could touch them ― nothing could go wrong.

That was a dream, that was a wish shown only to stars and birthday candles. He could never have that ― he could never be with Peter like that. It wasn't possible, plain and simple. Peter didn't love him, not like Caelum did. Peter didn't need him like Caelum did. Peter was a boy who ran on sunshine, pop culture, Legos, and smiles. Caelum was the exact opposite ― darkness, isolation, sand, and frowns. They could never be together, not like how Caelum would want them to. They could never be happy, never _content_.

And Peter did _not_ love him.

“Do you think you can go ask the officer if I can have these cuffs off?” Caelum asked. “And, if they have an update about my brothers?”

Peter frowned at the lack of an answer to his question ― to his plea. “You're not going to, then?” He asked, and Caelum looked away. “What can't you _tell_ me? What is going on?”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

Caelum narrowed his eyes, “What do you _care_ , anyway? This was never your problem, _I_ was never your problem! Go _home_ , Parker! Bother some other kid who's worth worrying over.”

“I am worrying over _you_! I want to help _you_!”

“I don't _want_ your help!” Caelum snapped. “I don’t _need_ your help, and I sure as hell never _asked_ for it! You just keep _imposing_ your ideas on everyone you see.” His voice got low, his eyes narrowed, “What's your _deal_ , Parker? You have other friends, friends who care a lot more about you than _I_ certainly do. Is it because you're so desperate to play _hero_? Is it because you want to _help_ people so bad? Why is that? Because you couldn't help _Ben_? Because you couldn't help your _parents_?” Caelum sneered coldly, “If you're the kind of hero that gets people ending up like _that_ , then I don't want you _anywhere_ near me.”

Peter stared at him, his mouth open, but words failed him. Suddenly, there were tears in his eyes, and his face was growing red and blotchy. “I want to help you because _nobody_ else is,” Peter said, his voice strained, and Caelum immediately felt guilty. “I want to help you because you're not helping _yourself_. I want to help because you're my _friend_ , but if you don't want my help, then I'll leave, Caelum. I hope you find someone who actually _wants_ to help you, and not get anything in return.”

Peter stood and turned his back on Caelum. Neither of them said a word as he left the room, slamming the door closed behind him.


	28. - 28 -

 

**chapter twenty-eight:**

  
Caelum sat there for another twenty minutes. The silence in the room encompassed him, as he waited for someone, anyone, to get him. Who was next? Sarah and Dorri? Matthew and Foggy? How many times was he going to keep pushing people who wanted to help him away? How long was he going to live like this?

The door opened and Foggy stepped in. He was smiling down at him. Caelum felt the sudden urge to scream at him, even though he hadn’t done anything. Was this how his father felt all the time? Just, angry? Just, _wild_?

“It took a bit of persuading, but they agreed,” Foggy announced. “With your background, and likely case of some kind of anxiety, it would be better for you to stay with us, as an alternative. Do you need to call your parents? Or any older siblings?”

Caelum was quiet for a bit, then he said, “What is going on with my brothers? Has someone tried to go to the address Principal Davis pointed out yet?”

“No,” Matthew said, and Caelum went stiff. “There’s no way to confirm the location of your brothers based on the information given by Mr. Davis, and between his injury, your arrest, and Mahoney’s suspension, no officers have been dispatched yet.”

“Why not?” Caelum snapped, glaring at the man. “He _confessed_! He said that they were being held there! Can’t they send someone to just check if it’s being inhabited!?”

“That’s not our place to say,” Foggy said, frowning. “You can talk to an officer, but I don’t think they’ll be changing their minds just yet, at least not until things calm a bit down. But, enough of that ― I’ll be back later this afternoon to pick you up, maybe around six or seven. Until then, hold tight, don’t talk about anything without us, alright?” He gave him a comforting smile, Caelum said nothing. He didn’t want this man’s smile, he wanted Peter’s.

Matthew was watching him closely with an obvious frown on his face. “Have they taken the handcuffs off, yet?” Matthew asked.

“No, sir,” Caelum said, moving his hands so they jingled against the metal of the table.

“Foggy, can you call an officer in here to take care of that?” Foggy rose an eyebrow, looking between the two of them, suspiciously. “Take your time, no rush,” Matthew added, and Foggy suddenly got the message.

“Oh! Yeah, sure, I’ll just. . .” He made a wide gesture towards the door, “Find a cop. . .” He grabbed his briefcase, and stepped out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked as soon as he left.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Caelum replied simply. “I’m fine.”

“A young boy ran out of this cell earlier, Foggy said that he saw him come in here. Did something happen ― did you tell him something we may need to know?” Caelum frowned, not wanting to think about Peter storming out of the police station, teary-eyed and flustered.

“No, I. . . he and I just had a fight,” Caelum noted, softly. “Nothing to worry about.” If anything, Peter would finally find it in himself to leave him alone.

It was a strange thing, when he was first approached by Peter, he wanted nothing to do with the boy. He wanted him to be at least a state away from him at all times ― at least that way, he wouldn’t have to worry about him and his feelings. But, in the past year or so, he’s been more open to Peter than he has been with anyone in his life ― if you didn’t count the ghost. Peter was someone Caelum could trust, someone he relied on, and Caelum didn’t want him getting tainted and disturbed by his life and his way of living. He wanted Peter to fall asleep not worrying about him, he wanted Peter to be happy without him, so that if anything ever happened to him, like they did his mother, he would be unconcerned.

But, it didn’t turn out like that. His attempts to push Peter away merely drew him closer, his attempts to get the boy to hate him only made Caelum fall further in love with him. Peter was strong, resilient, and stayed with Caelum despite everything he said and did. He was loyal, and Caelum appreciated it. He didn’t deserve a friend like Peter, he didn’t deserve to be in love with Peter.

“Caelum?” Matthew prompted, and Caelum shook himself out of his thoughts and self-loathing. “Will you be alright for now?” He needed to get his act together, he needed to stop worrying about Peter and Principal David and start worrying about the important things ― his brothers.

“If I am released, do you think the police will allow me to investigate the area he said my brothers were being held at?” He asked Matthew, who raised an eyebrow at the sudden question.

“I wouldn’t know,” Matthew said, honestly. “Based on the video, Davis had already been shown in a disturbed mental state. Like I said, there’s no way to prove the information, but―”

“If the police believe him to be lying, then there would be no question for me to go see for myself?” He asked, and Matthew frowned, neither confirming nor denying anything. Caelum didn’t need him to.

“I don’t want you doing anything that would put you in danger,” Matthew advised. “And in any way, if the information is correct, it would be best to contact the police before trying to see if you could do it yourself ― this is real life, not _Scooby Doo_.”

“I never said it was, sir,” Caelum replied, sitting straight. “But, thank you for the advice.”

Matthew pressed his lips together. Then, he stepped forward and lightly set a hand on his shoulder. He tried not to tense under his hold. “We’re going to find you brothers, Caelum,” Matthew assured. “Don’t worry.” He slipped something in front of Caelum. A small business card. "Call us, if you need something, alright?"

“Thank you,” Caelum said monotonously. He waited for the man to leave the room before he began to scheme, thinking of a way to get out of this cell.

 

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
He waited a good hour after Foggy and Matthew left before trying anything. They would just get in the way of his escape, and he needed this to be as smooth as possible.

“Sir!” He called out the partially opened door. “Is anyone there?” He waited a few minutes before calling out again, “ _Hello_!? Is anyone out there?”

A minute later, a man stepped in the cell. He was well-rounded, with a balding head, no facial hair, and a particularly tight uniform. His hand rested on his waist where his gun was, along with a set of keys. “I need to use the restroom, and I think I cut myself earlier with these cuffs ― I don’t want to get tetanus,” he forced a convincing chuckle. “Do you think I can get these off? It’s not like I’m going anywhere in a place full of cops.”

The man seemed to consider this before stepping forward, pulling his key ring off. He flipped through a few before bending over, pushing a key in the hole and twisting it. It clicked and Caelum stood, stepping away from the chair. He smiled at the man, looking him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

He was in the officer’s body. He moved down to the chair, and sat, then maneuvered his thick, calloused fingers to lock himself in. From there, he waited about five minutes until his neck started to burn, and he was forced out of the body.

He stepped back as the man slumped forward, unconscious. He turned and began to move for the door, twisting the knob and stepping out. He scanned the hallway, seeing a few officers milling around, talking, or hurrying from one place to another.

He breathed, and stepped into the hallway, catching the eye of an isolated female officer and blinking.

He moved swiftly towards her, dodging the men and women bustling from one place to another ― Matthew didn’t lie when he said things were ‘ _hectic_ ’. He used the woman to grab his shoulders, ushering him out of the hall and to the front doors. It was hard, his legs were like jello and his eyes glazed over, distant and unseeing. He looked, for all intents and purposes, _dead_.

He pushed his head down and shuffled quickly, feeling the heat of the back of his neck beginning to prickle and burn. He stepped past the secretary, and hurried to the door. He just needed to get out, leave her in an alley or something, and run. Then, he could go to―

“ _Ma’am_!” A voice cried out, and he kept walking. Someone grabbed his arm, tight, and put themselves in front of him. “Where are you taking him?” It was _Peter_. Caelum was going to scream.

He needed to think fast. “It’s classified, sorry kid.”

“That’s my friend, _please_ ,” Peter begged. His brown eyes begging and Caelum felt his face twitch. An odd heating rose up on his cheeks ― could he blush in this woman’s body? Oh, god, he didn’t want to do that.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to legally tell you―”

“ _Cael_! Cael, where is she taking you?” Peter turned to him, looking him straight in the eyes. Caelum twitched, feeling the phantom tingling on the back of his neck.

He had to get out of the open. He didn’t have much time left in this body. He didn’t know if that man had woken up yet ― he closed the door, but was it soundproof? “Look, kid, I don’t have time for this. Move, or you’ll be arrested too.” Peter glared up at the woman defiantly.

Caelum pulled his body around Peter, “ _Wait_!” He didn’t stop moving. He ran, practically dragging his body behind him. He moved down several blocks, getting strange looks from strangers as he passed ― and he wasn’t surprised. He was dragging a lifeless body behind him as he tore through large crowds.

He nearly collapsed as he turned the corner, the back of his neck was on fire. He forced himself out of view behind a dumpster, and looked back in his eyes, blinking.

The woman dropped immediately, and so did Caelum. He breathed heavily, the early May sun bearing down fiercely on him. He tried to catch his breath ― he didn’t have much time, Peter definitely made a scene back there. He had to get to his brothers before the police came after him.

He shakily got to his feet, huffing in the city’s smog-filled heat. He took one last glance at the considerably pale faced woman, hoping she would get better soon, and ran.

 

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum was very surprised at the building as he approached in. In bright, red lettering, it claimed to be an _Irish Art Center_. Shabby A/C units hung out the windows, and the gating on the front of the door looked rusted and dirty. He glanced around, seeing if he could get in at any other way, but was unable to. He sighed, climbing the few steps in front of the door, raising his hand to knock.

“I would probably wait,” Someone said over his shoulder. Caelum jumped, spinning around and stumbling into the door, knocking the screen against the wood. “Maybe, we should call the police first?” Spider-Man suggested.

“Why the _hell_ would I call the police?” Caelum snarled, he could hear movement inside the building. _Shit, shit, shit._ “Why are you here?!”

“Peter―”

“ _What_? Peter asked you to come? Does he have you on _speed-dial_?!” He snapped. “Get out of here, hurry!” Spider-Man moved to talk again, but Caelum shoved him, knocking him down the few steps before turning around himself.

The door opened and Caelum stood in the way of Spider-Man, hoping that they wouldn’t be able to see him. “Wha’ do ya want?” The man scowled. He was at least six-and-a-half feet ― _minimum_. He had a fiery reddish beard and cold green eyes. His head was bald, for the most part, and he had spots of age on his skin. His mouth was pulled tight, and his skin tanned from work. He looked annoyed and his cold eyes narrowed at Caelum.

Caelum worked fast, looking him in the eyes and blinking. In the man’s body, he quickly undid the lock on the door and opened it. Then, he grabbed Caelum’s arm, yanking him in. “No! _Wait_!” Spider-Man called, coming to his feet. Caelum didn’t close the door fast enough, Spider-Man slipped in.

“ _Brock_! Who’s that?” Someone called from across the room.

“Uh, girl scouts,” he answered quickly.

“Oh! Git some thin mints!” Caelum looked back at his limp body and blinked.

“ _Get out of here_!” Caelum whispered fiercely at Spider-Man when he was situated. Brock looked around dazed, and unfocused. Caelum was fast, grabbing the closest thing to him, which was an umbrella, and swatting him in the head. This, luckily, helped the dizzy man, and he fell, going on his knees, banging his head against the side of a bucket full of other umbrella, and sprawling out on the floor.

“Wha’ th’ ‘ _ell_ was tha’?!” Someone snapped. Caelum panicked, he grabbed Spider-Man’s hand, hurrying across the musty-smelling room. He pushed the boy behind the door and sliding underneath a nearby table.

Heavy footsteps stomped in and Caelum willed his heart to stop beating. He needed to get a decent look at the man, he needed to make sure Spider-Man didn’t give them away. “Wha’ th’ ‘ell!? _Brock_! Git up!” The man didn’t move. Caelum thanked God for it.

The man stood suspiciously, and Caelum poked his head out, he caught a glimpse of the man. “'Ey!” He snapped, going to his waist. Caelum blinked.

He was in the new man’s body, his hand rested firmly on a gun. He put it back, shivering a little ― he didn’t like them. “Wha's goin’ on down ‘ere?” Someone snapped from upstairs.

“Nothing,” He replied. “Don’t worry about it.” He bent down to where his body was, and tried to push him back underneath the table.

“Don’t touch him!” Spider-Man snapped, and Caelum looked around, but he wasn’t in the corner like he put him.

Someone jumped down from the ceiling, wrapping his legs around his neck and webbing his hands to his side. Caelum let out a yelp as they both fell to the ground. Spider-Man was webbing him up. Caelum managed to look back in his eyes before Spider-Man covered them up.

He struggled to get up, the irritating sticky-webbing leaving his skin itchy and strange. “ _Stop it_!” He snapped and Spider-Man stopped. The man before him was wriggling and very confused. His thick, dark eyebrows drawn together in confusion, his mouth covered from the webs. “We have to hurry.”

He turned to run, looking for the staircase leading upstairs. He found it in the other room. He also found someone coming down the steps, gun in hand.

He fired, and Caelum jumped back. The bullet missing him and hitting the floor. “Git ‘gainst th’ wall! _Now_! Hands up where I can see ‘em!”

Caelum rose his hands, and so did Spider-Man beside him, “Can’t you do your. . . your _thing_?” Spider-Man whispered frantically to him, as the man moved to check the main lobby, where his two comrades laid on the floor, one incapacitated, the other tied up.

“Not when he’s armed ― I don’t want to get us _shot_!” He snapped back. He stepped back in the room, gun still pointed at them.

“Who th' 'ell are ya?”

“We―ah―”

“We’re looking for Castor and Pollux Forest,” Caelum said. No need to lie, how was he going to explained the masked idiot beside him, and the webbed man in the other room. “I know they’re being held here.”

“I don’t know who ya talkin’ about, but ya better give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot ya now.”

“I’m Caelum Forest ― Principal Davis’ _pet_.” It stung his tongue to say it. “Surely, he’s told you about me. I’m the reason why they’re being held. He said I was _good_. I wanted to come see them.”

“Where’s Davis? Why are ya 'ere by yaself? An', who’s th' idiot in th' red hoodie?”

“I’m not an idiot!” Spider-Man defended himself weakly. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who ya are, kid,” he snarled. “I wanna know why ya 'ere, an' why my guys are on the ground.”

“I tried to explain my situation and they attacked me. We defend ourselves.”

“' _Defended yaselves_ '?” The man scoffed gruffly.

“I don’t think Principal Davis is going to be very happy to see that this is how he treats his pet. You might be fired ― or _worse_.”

“Worse _wha_ '?” He taunted. “Old man doesn’t have _shit_ on me! He’s jus' some pervert usin' ya as his fuck-toy.”

Caelum examined him for a moment, noticing a gleam on his finger. “He knows you’re married,” Caelum said. “And that you’ll do anything to protect your family.”

The man’s face contorted, shocked and confused. “Wha' th' 'ell are ya on 'bout?”

“He picked me up off the street, I didn’t even know he was coming. He could do the same to your kids ― to _you_ , if he tried hard enough. I mean, he hired the masked idiot here to make sure I didn’t run away. Do you think a man having the wealth to hire Enhanced people would find it hard to ruin you puny, miserable life?” Caelum gave a cold sneer, “Put the gun down ― you’re not doing yourself any favours. And you sure as hell won’t get paid for babysitting my brothers if you shoot me ― or the masked idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Spider-Man muttered. Caelum resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

The man watched them carefully, before finally putting the gun away and taking his hand off the trigger. Caelum moved fast, blinking, and taking control of the man’s body.

He grabbed the gun back out of his pocket and handed it to Spider-Man, handle facing him. “Hit me ― in the face.”

“ _What_!?” Spider-Man moved from the gun immediately. “What are you talking about ― you were just about to shoot us a minute ago!”

“It’s _me_ ― Caelum! Now, hit me with it! Hurry before the other guy wakes up!” Spider-Man stared at him, Caelum knew his jaw was dropped behind the mask.

“ _Caelum_!?”

“Yes, you _idiot_! Hurry up! Take it!” Spider-Man was hesitant, but took the gun anyway. Caelum turned back to his body and blinked.

The man scrunched up his eyebrows, looking confused. Spider-Man was swift, smacking him in the temple with the gun. He fell immediately, crumpling pitifully against the floor. Spider-Man dropped the gun immediately, as if it were made of fire.

“Come on,” Caelum said, urging Spider-Man up the steps. The rooms upstairs smelled just as bad as the ones downstairs, with mould, rats dropping and mice skittering in the corners.

Caelum pushed the doors opened in each room, hoping not to find any more irish thugs ― and thankfully finding none. Instead, he found bottles of alcohol, both full and empty, cigarette butts, dust lines from what had to be the residue of drugs, and the faint smell of vomit still clinging to the walls and floors.

Caelum kept searching, going to the next floor. Spider-Man was oddly silent, probably listening for anyone who was coming their direction, or someone who had woken up. He was going to ask him what he was doing when he heard a sniffle.

He turned his head sharply, “Castor? Pollux?” He waited, and then a soft.

“ _Caelum_?”

He ran down the hall, pushing all the doors open. He finally found them, both tied up on chairs facing each other on different sides of the room Caelum could have cried, going for Pollux immediately, who looked faint and half-alive. “ _Pollux_? Poll, it’s me, Caelum! Wake up, Pollux!”

Pollux’s eyes were red and his gaze wavering. His pupils narrowed and his lips were cracked. His cheeks were hollowed, and he coughed desperately. “ _Pollux_!?” He focused on the ropes on his arms, but they were tight and wouldn’t come off. “I need a knife!” He snapped, looking around for something sharp.

A glass alcohol bottle laid empty on the ground. Caelum grabbed it, smashing it against the floor, shielding his eyes. He grabbed a particularly big shard and began to saw through the ropes on his brother’s arms.

It took him a while, the glass wasn’t nearly as effective as a sharp knife would’ve been ― but he eventually got it. Pollux slumped forward, just barely breathing. “Don’t worry ― I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

“They did something to him,” Castor said. Caelum turned to look at him. He wasn’t in as bad of a condition as his twin, but the signs of malnutrition and thinly hidden abuse was there. Spider-Man was helping him, and had just got him out of the ropes. “They would ― They’d inject him with something, I–I don’t know what, but―he. . . I don't want him to die, Caelum!” Caelum picked Pollux up ― god, the boy was so light, it was _scary_.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He began to run away, cradling Pollux ― he had to take him to a hospital. He had to make sure he lived.

He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

They made it down the cricket steps and through the hall to get to the front. They were were stopped, however, by a man with a gun. The red-bearded Irish man. “Ya not goin’ anywhere!” He growled, his voice hoarse and a big knot on his forehead. His buddy was still on the ground, but closely listening to the situation. Caelum saw strands of webs on his fingers, obviously, he had tried to free him.

“ _Please_ ,” Caelum begged, hugging Pollux close as he frantically thought of a way out. They boy needed help ― they needed to leave peacefully. Castor and Pollux were his paychecks, he still thought that Principal Davis was free. Castor and Pollux were his main priority ― Spider-Man could take them to the hospital. “Let them go, take me instead.”

“ _What_?!” Spider-Man snapped, looking surprised and scared.

“I’m worth more to Principal Davis ― I’m his whore. He’s going to be happy if someone knows where I am, and brings me to him. He would probably be more than willing to pay a substantial sum for my return.”

“Cael, _no_ ,” Spider-Man argued, moving closer to him and Brock tensed angrily, shifting the gun between them. They didn’t have time for mistakes, not right now.

“ _Quiet_!” Caelum snapped, angrily. “Take me ― leave my brothers, please. I–I’ll do anything, please.”

“ _Shut up!_ ” He snapped, his gun shaking. He probably had a concussion. He stood there for a minute, his expression shifting between greed and anger. Caelum willed him to give in ― he prayed he would choose him over his brothers. “ _You_!” He pointed the gun at Caelum, “Stand over 'ere,” he moved the gun across the room.

Caelum did so, handing Pollux to Spider-Man and moved silently. Spider-Man was watching him, his eyes covered, but he could see the tension and fear in his body. “You three!” He pointed the gun at Spider-Man, “ _Get out_! An' if I even see ya faces on this street 'gain, I’ll put a bullet in ya skulls!” Spider-Man was reluctant, but he turned and left, holding Pollux’s body with one hand, and Castor’s hand with the other.

The door closed and Caelum watched the man sluggishly lock it. The gun still hung limply from his grip. Now, he just needed to get his attention. “ _Sir_?” The man looked at him, anger and hatred in his eyes, he pointed the gun at Caelum and he put his hands up.

“Don’t fuckin’ _speak_!” He snapped, advancing on him. Caelum immediately saw Principal Davis in his stance, his father in his eyes. He cowered away, heart pounding as the man grabbed the back of his shirt.

His strength was extraordinary, as he flung him across the room, as if his 140 pounds mean nothing. He hit a wooden chair as he crashed against the floor with a bang. He heard pounding on the door and the distant voice of someone calling his name.

He looked the man in the eyes, but didn’t get to switch in time. The man punched him, square in the face with all of his strength. Caelum’s vision went white and then pain sparked and lit up. He moaned, bringing his hands to his eye, tearing up and shaking. “Tha’s wha' ya git for hittin' me, bastard!” He hit him again, but this time in the gut.

Caelum gasped, completely winded and coughed roughly. He had to get out of here ― he had to save his brothers. He hoped Spider-Man ran by now, he hoped he was calling the police.

Would these men treat him like Principal Davis? Would they treat him like his father?

The man reared back, ready to hit him again. Caelum looked up and finally blinked.

He was in the man’s body again ― missing teeth and all. He grabbed his body around the waist and moved with such an ease it terrified him. This man was all muscle and brute strength. A beating from him would _kill_ Caelum.

He made it to the door and opened it. Of course, Spider-Man stood outside of it, and he stepped back when Caelum was presented in the man’s body. So did Castor, fear sparking in his eyes. Caelum wanted to kill this man for putting it there in the first place.

He opened the metal screen and put his body outside, then, he closed the screen and blinked.

Caelum got up as quickly as he could, the man behind him dazed again. He grabbed Castor and lifted him with ease ― he was just as light as Pollux. “ _Run_! _Now_! _Run_!” He snapped, and the two booked it down the street, both his brothers in hand.


	29. - 29 -

** chapter twenty-nine: **

  
Caelum and Spider-Man walked as fast as they could away from the block that the Irish men were. When they were finally at least five blocks away ― safely out of chasing distance and easy enough to duck inside someplace to hide, Caelum slowed to a stop.

He was winded and Castor was getting a bit heavy, despite his significantly lighter frame. They couldn’t walk back to the police station ― it was at least an half an hour away, and Castor needed help now. He didn’t know this area as well as he knew Queens. He didn’t know where the nearest hospital was, and he didn’t have a phone to look it up.

Caelum could have swore. He bit his lip, glancing around the street, trying to find someone who could help. “What’s wrong?” Spider-Man asked, not sounding tired at all. “Why are we stopping?”

“We need a plan ― somewhere we can go,” Caelum said, wanting to yell in frustration when he only saw residential buildings and offices nearby. He wished he was back in Queens ― he knew Queens like the back of his hand! He didn’t know anyone who lived here and he wasn’t sure Spider-Man had any connections either.

Suddenly, he frowned, remembering something. He shifted Castor to the other arm and fished through his pockets. His fingers seized on a small card, and he yanked it out. He grinned, recognizing the slightly torn ‘ _Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law_ ’ business card ― thankfully, with an address.

“Come on,” He said, scanning street names, they were on 49th street, and the business card said 40th. He didn’t know what time it was, but it looked well into the afternoon ― probably around rush hour. Soon, the sidewalks would be packed and he didn’t want to lose track of Spider-Man.

He began to run down the sidewalk, Spider-Man just on his heels.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Just as Caelum suspected, it was near rush hour as they approached the office building. Luckily, he managed to keep a hand on Castor and Spider-Man’s arm as they navigated through the busy crowds. They had nearly missed the building too, if Spider-Man hadn’t pointed out the plate on the front. “Is this the place?” He asked, stopping in his tracks.

Caelum came over, exhausted, his eye swollen completely shut and his chest hurting. He was ready to drop, and was immediately filled with energy when he read the sign.

**NELSON AND MURDOCK**

 

**ATTORNEYS AT LAW**

  
Caelum could have wept. He pushed the doors, only to find them locked. Suddenly, he was tense, he they didn’t have a key to get in.

“Don’t worry,” Spider-Man said, handing Pollux over to him ― who had gotten significantly more sickly in the past half hour. He pulled two thin pieces of metal out of his pocket, and began to work on the lock. A second later, it clicked and the gate swung open. Then, he did the same on the front door, and that opened too.

“Why do you have a lock-pick on you?” Caelum asked, moving to pick up Pollux, and letting Spider-Man take Castor.

Spider-Man gave a noncommittal shrug, “You never know when you’ll need it.” Then, they began to walk, closing the door behind them and taking the elevator up. They both leaned against the wall, exhausted by the afternoon’s events to say anything. “What floor are they on?”

“The third one, I think,” Caelum said, and moved to push the button. The elevator shifted and churned to life. Caelum ignored the upset feeling he felt as it finally fell down on the floor.

Caelum shifted his hold on Pollux and walked down the hall, glancing at all the windows on the doors. He found suite 314 and knocked.

A minute later, a woman called from inside, “ _Coming_!” Then, the door opened. Caelum was met with a pretty blonde girl with striking blue eyes. She had a white blouse, with a blazer, and a black pencil skirt with matching heels.

She was smiling at him, until she saw his face, the deathly look of his brothers, and the masked man beside him. Caelum gave her his best smile, “Hello, sorry to show up so. . . so suddenly, but is Mr. Murdock here? I. . . we need help.” He didn’t like asking for help ― that was a fact, and proven over time ― but this was a desperate time. His brother was close to death, and he didn’t have money to get to the hospital, or directions, or money to pay for the bill. He was in over his head, he needed an adult.

He needed his _mom_.

A man stepped from around the corner, and Caelum recognized the slender man with dark glasses as Mr. Murdock. “Caelum? What are you doing here?”

“I went ― I got my brothers back, sir,” Caelum said, feeling tense. He saw Matthew’s face harden with frustration. He had specifically told him not to go ― at least not to go alone. “My brother ― Pollux ― something is wrong with him. I think he needs to go to the hospital, but I don’t know where it is and I don’t have money and I―”

“Calm down,” Matthew said. “Karen, call 911. I’ll call Foggy and tell him you’re here ― he was looking for you, along with the rest of the police force.” Caelum felt a twinge of guilt, but suppressed it. “Bring your brothers in here for now.” He waved a hand to what looked like an office. Caelum moved, and so did Spider-Man.

Karen took notice of him immediately, and frowned. “Who’s the guy in the mask?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s. . . a friend of mine,” Caelum said, hesitating on the word ‘ _friend_ ’. He did help his brothers, of course. That was enough of a friend for now.

Caelum set Pollux down in a comfortable looking arm chair, and Karen moved to her desk and dialed 911. He heard the dispatcher on the other line ask what was wrong from where he sat. Caelum closed his eyes as Karen explained the situation. He was tired, he needed to rest.

He glanced over at Spider-Man, who looked a bit uncomfortable. Castor, who was put in the chair just beside Pollux, had moved to sit with him, putting his brother’s head in his lap, and rubbing his arm gently. He was crying, Caelum realized, and suddenly prayed that his brother would be alright.

“Caelum?” Matthew said, and he looked over. “Tell me what happened?”

Caelum frowned, and began to speak, “I went to the address Principal Davis gave me. Spider-Man found me before I entered, and he helped me incapacitate three men before we found my brothers. As we were leaving, the first man managed to wake up and threatened us with a gun. I. . . I sacrificed myself for my brothers and Spider-Man, and he let them go. He hit me ― as you, well. . . _can't_ see ― but I managed to get out of the house. Then, we ran.”

Matthew frowned from the very condensed version of the story. Caelum had obviously left out a lot of pieces of the puzzle, but he wasn’t in any mood to explain. Not right now, he was tired and his brothers needed help and he wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be.

Matthew seemed to understand this and sighed a little, “Okay. We can talk more later. For now, rest.” Caelum nodded, glancing at his brothers, and then at Spider-Man, who had been watching from afar.

Spider-Man caught his eye, and Caelum realized that he knew a lot more about him that he wanted him to. “Is it alright if my friend and I talk outside ― _alone_?”

Matthew nodded, “Don’t go far, the paramedics will be here soon.”

“Thank you,” he said, and stood. Spider-Man stood too ― a bit clumsier, though ― and Caelum led them outside the attorney’s office and into the hallway. “ _Look_ ,” he began, breathing a little, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want Peter finding out about this.”

Spider-Man looked a bit tense at the mention of his friend. “ _Why_?” He asked.

“He and I aren’t on the best terms right now,” Caelum explained in the best way he could. “I said a few things that I shouldn’t have, and now. . . he’s. . . well, we’re just not talking, I don’t think. And, if he knows I can do. . . do that ― _possess_ people ― he would be freaked out.”

“Yeah, I am―I mean, I’m sure he would be a bit. . . _shocked_ by that,” Spider-Man admitted, a bit uncomfortably. “But, he’s also your friend, and he knows that you’re going through a lot right now. He wants to help you, Cael. All you have to do is ask for it.”

Caelum bit the inside of his lip, looking away. “I can’t ask him, it’s a lot more complicated than that. He. . .” Caelum felt embarrassed talking about this with someone he barely knew.

“He _what_?” Spider-Man pressed. “I know he wants the best for you. I know he just wants you to be happy.”

“I want him to be happy too,” Caelum defended. “But, with everything that’s going on in my life right now, between my brothers, Principal Davis, my job, _this_ ―!” He waved a hand to the building in general. “I want him to be happy, and I want to provide that happiness for him, but I can’t do that right now. I can’t pay him back for everything he’s done for me. I can’t possibly be there for him when I’m hardly there for myself.”

“You need a _break_ , Cael,” Spider-Man said, stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, and Caelum closed his eyes and sighed. He was so exhausted, and he felt like he was just sucking out all the exhaustion in that one touch. “Peter wants to help you, he still wants to be your friend.”

“I don’t want him to _just_ be my friend,” Caelum admitted sourly, looking away.

“What do you mean?” Spider-Man sounded confused.

“I. . .” He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say it to him, and not to Peter. But, he was so warm and Caelum was so tired. He was here and Peter wasn’t. “I love him, _okay_? I love Peter.” The words felt foreign, and Caelum felt like a thousand bricks were taken off his shoulders.

Spider-Man just stared at him, and Caelum suddenly felt embarrassed and hot with frustration. He turned, trying to go back in side, this was _useless_ , this was _stupid_ , this was _silly_. God, he _knew_ Peter ― he would tell Peter _everything_. He would make Peter _hate_ him.

Spider-Man caught his arm, and turned him around. Then, soft, pink lips met his.

Caelum was stunned and was warm all over. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to say it. He’s never kissed anyone ― no, wait, he’s never _willingly_ kissed anyone. And, he was so warm and hot and tasted like, Caelum almost laughed, he tasted like crab apples. God, this boy was kissing him.

Then, he was kissing back, it was messy and weird, and their lips felt awkward against the other’s. The tickle of the boy’s mask against his nose almost made him sneeze. In the kiss, Caelum thought he could imagine Peter. Him standing right in front of him, pressing his adorably pink lips against his own, closing his eyes and letting their mouths discover one another.

He pulled away, shocked. _No_ , he couldn’t do this to himself. This boy _wasn’t_ Peter. He was Peter’s _friend_. Oh, god, he kissed Peter’s _friend_. Peter was going to hate him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, his lips pinkish from where they had a brief contact.

Caelum turned, leaving his question unanswered, and escaped back into the office. His eyes were wide and his breathing heavy. He could hear the boy calling his name from the hall before footsteps retreated and the ding of the elevator echoed.

“Caelum?” Karen said, watching him closely, her eyebrows knit together.

“Do you have a bathroom?” Caelum said, trying to sound as disgustingly devastated as he felt.

She gave him a sad look, “Down the hall, past the kitchen.” Caelum nodded, and moved quickly, following her directions to the bathroom, and locking the door.

He moved back, slumping against the wall and sinking to the floor. Oh, dear, oh _God_. What has he done?

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The paramedics arrived not long after that, along with the police. Caelum cleaned himself up and left the bathroom. Two familiar officers, Watson and York, stood in the doorway, arms crossed as they spoke with Matthew. “He ran away while being held in custody,” Watson was saying. “He needs to come back to the station.”

“The deal I made with your Chief was that he could stay the night with us, and would serve the rest of his 24-hours in the station. He _agreed_ to this, considering his background. Now, if you’re trying to change that, I am going to need to speak with _him_ , not _you_. If you don’t mind giving me his phone number, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“ _Matthew_ ―”

“I don’t mind,” Caelum spoke up, despite his hammering heart and red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t mind going to the station overnight. I. . .” he swallowed, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll live.”

Officer Watson smiled, pleased with this development. Officer York, however, stared at his face, raising an eyebrow, “What happened to your face?” He asked. Caelum figured it was just was swollen and red as before ― he needed an ice pack.

“The man that kidnapped my brothers,” Caelum said. “He got a few good hits in.” He knew he didn’t have a broken rib, but his chest sure did hurt.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Officer York asked, concerned, but Caelum shook his head.

“I want to get this over with. The paramedics have already come?”

“Yes, your brothers are on the way to the hospital now,” Matthew answered. “You don’t have to stay at the station.”

“I just want my brothers to be safe ― that’s all,” Caelum said. “Before we leave, can I get some ice?”

Karen, who had been standing idly by, nodded at the request, “ _Yes_! Of course, I’m sorry,” she hurried to the kitchen, preparing a bag of ice for his face.

“Why the sudden change?” Officer Watson asked. “They said you were adamant on not staying overnight.”

“You don’t have to answer that, Caelum,” Matthew said, but Caelum did want to answer. He just didn’t know how.

“I. . .” Got what he wanted? Didn’t want Spider-Man to find him? Needed some time before he came back and ruined something else? “I don’t know. I just. . . I guess I’m tired, and I want to get this over with.” He shrugged, thanking Karen as he took the ice from her. He held it to his face, “I didn’t do anything wrong, that woman told me I was leaving, she escorted me out, so I followed her. I was just doing as I was told.” He shrugged helplessly.

“What about the officer left where you were supposed to be?” Watson accused.

“I asked him if I could go to the bathroom, he’s the one who cuffed himself in my seat. I still had to use the bathroom, and that’s when the woman found me, and took me away.”

Watson frowned, not buying the story at all, but having no way to disprove it. Meanwhile, Matthew’s face was unreadable, but his lips were turned down slightly. Caelum didn’t know why. “If that is all the questions you have, can we go now?”

“Yes,” Officer York said, and moved a hand in the direction down the hall. “This way.”

Caelum followed, and started walking down the hall behind them. He could feel Matthew’s eyes boring into his skull behind him.


	30. - 30 -

**chapter** ** thirty: **

  
Caelum was quiet for the whole ride back to the station. The officers kept prompting him to speak, but he had nothing else to say. Matthew already advised him not to say anything, and although Caelum knew they had nothing to really convict him for ― except for leaving when he wasn’t supposed to. Besides, his brain was far too scrambled to talk with discretion.

He couldn't help but think of the kiss. He couldn’t help but think of how soft the boy’s lips were and how different it was from all the other times Principal Davis forced himself on him. The kiss was soft, subtly sweet, and made his heart squirm with desire for more, for another.

But as soon as the thoughts arrived, he immediately felt terrible. The reason he wanted Spider-Man was because he couldn’t have Peter. He couldn’t kiss Spider-Man and love another boy! That was wrong and misleading and. . . and _disgusting_! He would be just as bad as Principal Davis! Well, maybe not as bad as him, but the similarities were there. He didn’t want that ― he didn’t want to break someone else’s heart because his own was in shambles.

God, this was a lot. This was exactly why he didn’t want to befriend Peter ― this was exactly why he didn’t want to have people this close to him! They distracted him and made things. . . messy.

He slumped in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face. He wanted to talk to Peter, but at the same time, the things he said to the boy was practically unforgivable. Caelum hated himself for saying it ― for going that far. It wasn’t fair to him.

Caelum wouldn’t blame Peter for not wanting to talk to him anymore, if someone said those things to him, he wouldn’t want to talk to them either. He wasn’t being fair, and now he lost the only person who actually gave a shit about the things he did.

He scowled, rubbing his face again. He didn’t want to go back to the station and stay there overnight. He wanted to go home, but he knew that wasn’t a viable option. He should just get this mess over with and wait until morning ― they would have to let him out eventually.

The car finally made it back to the station. Officer York stopped in front of the building, letting Officer Watson bring him inside while he parked.

Caelum stepped out of the car with no protest, and Watson didn’t put the cuffs back on him. He opened the door for him as they entered the police station. Caelum saw Foggy standing in the front, a phone to his ear. He turned and saw Caelum step into the building. “No, he’s coming in now, okay. Call you later.” He put the phone away and frowned at him. “You weren’t supposed to leave.”

Caelum frowned, he didn’t like being talked down to. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. My bad, I’ll make sure now to do it again, sir.” Foggy frowned, obviously not liking being talked to satirically either.

“He’s agreed to staying here overnight,” Officer Watson said, smirking a little in Foggy’s direction. He rose an eyebrow and looked to Caelum for confirmation.

“I. . . I don’t mind staying here,” He replied a bit awkwardly. He had gotten what he wanted anyway, he had no reason to be here, but staying the night wouldn’t be a problem. It just turned his stomach to be isolated in a locked cell overnight with strangers. It was a bit too similar with the conditions of Principal Davis, but he could stay calm, hopefully.

“Okay,” Foggy said, a tone in his voice that Caelum couldn’t quite interpret. “Well, I just got off the phone with Matt, just a reminder, don’t―”

“Say anything detrimental to the police without your supervision,” Caelum cut him off. He already heard this speech. “And I don’t have anything else to say, anyway.” He glanced over at Officer Watson, “Will I be charged for saving my brothers?”

“No,” Foggy said before Watson could answer. “You were defending the lives of your brothers, which wouldn’t hold for long, as long as you used reasonable force. And, judging by your. . . _face_ , I suspect that it was.” Foggy turned to Officer Watson, “Am I right, Officer?”

Officer Watson did not look pleased. He narrowed his eyes at him and gave an irritated sneer. “Thank you, Foggy, but I’m perfectly capable of telling him that.” He grabbed Caelum’s upper arm tight, and he flinched, his eyes going wide for a minute before relaxing. “Come on,” Watson said gruffly, and pulled him away from Foggy.

But, before he could get far, Officer York appeared out of one of the offices, a frown on his face. “Wait, Martin,” he said to Watson. “Chief said to let him go.”

Watson stared at him, eyebrows pushed together. “ _What_?”

“He reviewed the evidence, and said that the kid didn’t do anything wrong,” York shrugged, obviously not pleased with this development either. “He wants him sent back home — now.”

Foggy grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Caelum bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from yelling, “That sounds great!” He cheered, happily.

“Wait,” Watson looked absolutely confunded. “Where is he? I want to talk to him!”

“He just left ― his kid had a recital tonight or something like that. He just wanted me to spread the news when I was coming up from the garage. You might be able to call him, though ― he just left.”

“I’ll do just that,” Watson said, and fished his phone out of his pocket. He dialed the Chief of Police’s number and pointed a chunky finger at him. “Don’t go anywhere.” Caelum took the man’s advice, waiting for the phone to pick up. It did on the third ring. “Hello sir ― it’s Martin. I just wanted to confirm that the kid―”

Suddenly, there was shouting. Caelum couldn’t quite make out everything being said, but he did hear him distinctly say, _“I don’t want to tell you again_!” He snapped, sounding angry and almost desperate. “ _Send the damned kid home or so help me, Watson, I’ll suspend your ass until Christmas rolls around!_ ”

“Yes, sir. Of course sir.” Caelum covered the smirk on his face.

The man hung up and looked irritated and pale. “Go home,” He grumbled.

Caelum gave the man a smug smile, “Are you sure that’s what your Chief said? Do you want to call him again?”

“If you don’t get the fuck out of my face,” He snapped, and Foggy to the man’s signal.

“Got it! Thanks! See you next time!” He turned, grabbing Caelum’s hand and leading him out of the police station.

Caelum was trying not to laugh the entire time, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s been a long day,” He admitted, unable to send the smile away.

“I agree,” Foggy sighed. “Do you have a way to get home?”

Caelum nodded, “Yeah,” He said. “I have my card. Thank you for everything.”

Foggy smiled, “No problem.” He gave his shoulder a little nudge. “You have our business card, in case you get in trouble again ― but I suggest not doing so, though.”

“I’ll try not to,” Caelum said with a smile, and they parted ways.

Caelum walked back to the subway station alone, his arms crossed tight against his chest as he thought of the days events. His ribs still hurt a little, but the swelling in his eye had stopped and the pain turned to a mere throb.

Despite all this, he still wanted to visit his brothers. Then again, he knew if he didn't go back to Sarah and Dorri's, or really check in with them to let them know he was still alive, they would get seriously upset and worried.

Caelum decided that he was just going to go back to the Café for the night, and then go to the hospital the next morning and check on his brothers. He really didn't want to get stuck with mounting heaps of hospital bills for his brothers. He wanted them to get better, of course, but he really didn't think he'd have the money to pay for it. He would need to get another job, he supposed, and work more hours.

Caelum was tired. He wanted to go lie down and think this out properly ― it had been a long day, no doubt. What he needed was some green tea and a nap. Maybe Peter would come by, if he wasn't mad still ― but Caelum didn't think that was possible. The things he said was unredeemable, and if Spider-Man told him about his ability, or the fight, or. . . or the _kiss_.

Would Spider-Man brag to him about it? Would Peter be disgusted? Would Peter be mad? Jealous? Indifferent? Caelum didn’t know how he would react, but a part of him wanted him to get angry, to get annoyed, so that he would know that maybe Peter did care about him in that way.

Maybe, Caelum would have the chance to taste the boy’s sweet lips on his own. Maybe, pink would clash with brown as they discovered each other in a brand new meaning.

Caelum scoffed, closing his eyes and sighing. It would do him no good with his head in the clouds and his heart on his sleeve. Wishful thinking brought nothing but bad news and sneering looks. Caelum made a face, shoving his way to get to the subway station. “ _Oi_! Watch where you’re going!” Someone with a distinct British accent snapped at him, in a particularly grouchy mood. Caelum didn’t respond, the train back to Queens would be leaving in about seven minutes. He didn’t have time for idle chatter. “ _Stop_!”

Suddenly, he fell still, his arms by his sides, unable to move. What was this? What was going on? “ _You_! Right there, turn around.”

Caelum did as he was told, despite his obvious not wanting to. He was looking at a man, with a stubbly beard and combed over hair. He had dark brown intense eyes and a nice blue suit jacket on. He rose an eyebrow, curling his lip in a sneer, “Kids these days ― you all act like arseholes, you know that? Bloody pricks.”

“Pardon me?” Caelum said, he could hear the call for the train echoing in the tunnel ― he really didn’t have time for this.

“Say your sorry ― for bumping into me. Somebody better teach you some manners.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Caelum said and gave him a polite, charming smile. “I shouldn’t have bumped into you, my mistake.”

The man rose an eyebrow, “Well, aren’t you a _charmer_. What’s your name?”

“Algol Caelum Forest, sir.”

“Well, _Algol Caelum Forest_ ,” The man repeated, “Why don’t you follow me?” Caelum nodded and did as he was told, walking back up the trashy, weathered stone steps and following the man as he walked. “Where are you from?”

“Queens, sir,” He replied. He frowned a bit, wasn’t he supposed to be going somewhere? Why was he following this man again?

“Hmm. . . Queens, is it nice? I heard it’s a bit. . . rundown.”

“The city is well, sir.” Caelum said.

The man nodded, “You’re very polite ― how old are you?”

“I turn sixteen this friday, sir.”

“Oh, wow. Young blood, eh?” The man grinned, showing all his white teeth and a bit of pink gums. For some reason, it scared him.

“Where are we going, sir?” Caelum asked, because he couldn’t help himself.

“For a walk,” The man said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind walking? I like myself to have a bit of fresh air from time to time.”

“I _like_ walking,” Caelum agreed, looking up. It was getting late. Probably near six o’clock, maybe a bit earlier. Wasn’t he supposed to be going somewhere.

“So, _Algol Caelum Forest_ , what year are you in? I know you Americans have a different school system, it’s so strange.”

“I’m not in school, sir,” Caelum replied simply. “I dropped out.” He rose an eyebrow, surprised.

“You dropped out?” He repeated, as if he didn’t believe the words himself. “Whatever for?”

“My dad was sent to jail, and my mother couldn’t pay for myself and my brothers. So I got a few jobs and I started to work. I didn’t have time to go to school, so I left.”

“Wow, that’s a shame,” The man frowned. “Go back to school ― fuck your mother.”

“I’m sorry?” Caelum frowned, and the man rose an eyebrow at him. Again, that intense look was directed at him. Caelum should possess the man, he though vaguely, see who he was, maybe he had a wallet on him?

“You heard what I said ― go back to school.” Caelum turned on the spot, and the man called after him, “Wait, no, not now, tomorrow, god dammit.” He grabbed Caelum’s arm. Instinctively, he yanked himself away. The man stared at him, “ _What_?”

“ _Pardon_?” He replied, not quite understanding. He needed to get home. He needed to go home. He couldn’t force his legs to move at all though. He didn’t understand what was happening.

“You pulled yourself away ― don’t _ever_ do that again.” Caelum frowned, but nodded.

“Yes sir,” he replied.

“Again with the politeness and the ‘ _sir’s_ ,” The man scoffed, stepping away and pointing a finger at him. “Why do you say that?”

“I. . . I don’t understand, sir,” Caelum replied.

“‘ _Sir_ ’, ‘ _sir_ ’, ‘ _sir_ ’,” He scoffed. “You say it like you’re a bloody soldier in the military.”

Caelum rose an eyebrow at the subtly strange man, “I apologize?” He said, a bit confused.

“Don’t apologise,” The man rolled his eyes. “That’s annoying too.”

“Alright,” Caelum said, “I have to go home, now.”

“Bah! Forget about that, got it?” Caelum blinked, where _was_ home anyway? “You’re staying with me ― I find you amusing. You should be honoured, I don’t find many people to be like that.”

“Thank you, sir,” He smiled.

“So, Algol Caelum Forest,” the man resumed walking. Caelum followed obediently. “What are you doing so far from Queens?”

“I came to interrogate my Principal and save my brothers,” The man turned around, obviously not expecting that answer. Caelum hadn’t expected to give it either, so they were both mildly shocked.

“ _Wow_!” He grinned again, “That’s a lot! What where you interrogating you Principal for?”

“He kidnapped my brothers. I was getting the information, sir.”

“Why would he kidnap your brothers? Who are you, _James Bond_?”

“I’m not _James Bond_ , sir, I’m Caelum.”

He rose an eyebrow, “You go by Caelum? Why not Algol?”

“I don’t like that name.”

“Why not?”

“It means ‘ _Demon Star_ ’ and ‘ _Head of a Goat_ ’.”

“Well, that’s _awful_ ,” He frowned, but continued to walk again. Caelum noticed they were heading for a park. He saw a few people walking their dogs. “Anyways, Algol, why did your Principal kidnap your brothers?”

“To keep me in check and provide an incentive so I would do as he said.”

“And why would he want to do that?”

“Because if not, I would have tried to leave.”

“Why did he want to keep you there?”

“Because I was his whore, sir,” Caelum said, and then frowned. Why was he saying this? He didn't even know this man’s name. “He was molesting me.”

The man blinked, momentarily stunned at his words, “So you interrogated him? How did that work out?”

“He was arrested, and I asked if I could asked the police if I could ask him where my brothers were.”

“And he told you? Just like that?”

“No, sir. I forced him to.”

“And this is where the interrogating comes in,” The man smirked. “How did that work?”

“I smashed his face into a metal table.”

“Oh! _Wow_!” He let out a loud laugh, causing a few heads to turn their way. “That’s absolutely _ruthless_! They let you go? Did you find your brothers?”

“Yes, they let me go, and yes I did find my brothers, sir.”

“Why would they do that?” He gave a lopsided smile, “You _assaulted_ him ― must’ve broken his nose by the sound of it.”

“I never touched him, sir.”

Now, the man frowned, confused, “You just said you slammed his bloody face in the table. How the hell did you manage that without touching him?”

“I possessed him.” Caelum felt his heart stop, he bit the inside of his lip, he had to stop talking. He had to let it go! He had to leave! “May I go home, sir?”

“ _No, no_ , not yet. This is just getting _interesting_.” They stopped at a terrance where a few adults sat, talking to each other. “Leave,” the man commanded, and they scattered, leaving their belongings on the ground, resting there. The man sat, “Sit with me, explain this. . . this _possessing_ thing.”

  
“I was in an accident about six months ago,” Caelum explained, his heart pounding madly. “When I woke up, I was able to possess people.”

“How does it work? Show me.” Caelum did, he glanced around the park. He saw a blonde haired woman coming their way, walking a great golden retriever. He looked in her eyes and blinked.

Suddenly, he was halfway across the park. The dog turned and whined at him. Caelum blinked, looking around. He could see his body sitting with man in the terrace. Why was he here? He _needed_ to leave ― he needed to run. He tried to turn away, but he heard a voice behind him. “What did you do? Who did you possess?” The man was asking his still body, Caelum had the urge to make himself known, but suppressed it. He needed his body back, he didn’t want to go to the man, but he needed his body back.

The man caught his eyes, and he turned to look away, trying to find something else to busy himself with. “Is it her?” He asked his body, but he still didn’t move. “ _You_! Blondie with the mutt! Come here!” Caelum felt himself being pulled forward and he began to walk towards him, the woman’s dog barking the entire time. “Algol? Are you in there?”

“Yes sir,” he said, the woman’s voice was light and sweet.

“Why didn’t you come back immediately?”

“I was trying to leave, sir,” Caelum replied and the man let out a cold laugh.

“No luck of that ― I think your a bit too interesting to give away. Go back to your own body ― stop possessing her.” Caelum looked back in his eyes and blinked. The woman looked around confused. The man addressed her, “Go sit down and be quiet.” She did as she was told, taking her dog to sit on the bench across from her.

“How many people can you control?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Caelum said. He hasn’t tested out his limits.

“Can you control animals?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Let’s try that, take her dog and possess it.” Caelum turned and looked in the dog’s beady black eyes. He felt the tingling against the back of his neck and then he blinked.

Suddenly, everything was loud and raw and smelly and wrong. He tried to groan, to get away, but the leash that rubbed at the back of his neck kept him in place. God, what was he doing? This was so. . . this was so _weird_. He felt sick. He heard shouting and suddenly someone was grabbing him by his collar, yanking him back to his body.

Caelum didn’t have to be told twice. He looked back in his eyes and blinked.

Suddenly, the room was spinning, Caelum fell back on the bench, slamming into the ground. He vomited, the yellow bile spewing past his lips and into the hydrangea bushes behind him. “ _Fascinating_ ,” Caelum sagged, breathing raggedly. He wanted to go home. He was. . . that was so disgusting. God, he couldn’t get the taste and scent off of him ― _out_ of him. “You’re so _interesting_! Stand up.” Caelum tried to, but his knees gave out, and he fell over, leaning against a pillar. “That will do. Look at me,” Caelum did so.

And then he blinked.

The man’s body was jittery and loose, but Caelum didn’t care about that. He fell to his hands and knees and picked up the rocks that lined the hydrangea bushes. He began to shove them in his mouth, not swallowing them, but keeping the man from speaking anymore. When his cheeks were full and he was sure the jagged edges were cutting his gums, he looked back in his eyes and blinked.

The man was a bit confused, and Caelum didn’t stick around to see him realize what he did. He ran, going as fast and as far as he could. He ran all the way to the subway station and caught the first train, he didn’t care where.

He waited, staring at the doors, begging the man to not come in and try to kill him ― would he kill him? He wasn’t sure. Caelum slumped against the seat when the doors to seal themselves shut and closed his eyes as he waited for the train to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> Just a little announcement that I thought was important. I made a playlist on YouTube for this story. If you're interested in listening to it, here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkVrHUG92sDEQdJFITyzNkgUag22MiaWd
> 
> (If you're on Wattpad, you can look at my message board, I'll copy and paste it there).
> 
> Okay that's it, thanks for reading!


	31. - 31 -

** chapter thirty-one: **

  
Caelum had been sitting on the train for at least twenty minutes before he realized that he didn't know where his ' _home_ ’ was. He knew he lived in Queens, but he just. . . he just couldn't figure out where.

This was beginning to scare him. Was it because of that man? Did he make him forget where he lived? A part of him wanted to go back to the man, that being here on this train was wrong, but another part knew that was wrong too!

Caelum grabbed his skull, trying to think. Where did he live? Queens, yes but _where_? _Who_ did he live with? Where was his home? That man, the _stranger_? No, no, no _wrong_. He needed an address ― he needed a name.

 _Peter_ , he suddenly thought. Did he know where Peter lived? He thought so.

Caelum waited until his stop for Queens came before getting off and starting to walk. He walked for several blocks, the sun dipping low and the sky going overcast. Then, it began to rain, and Caelum was drenched to the bone.

He shivered as he tried to make it to Peter ― to where Peter lived. He found the building and scanned the buzzers before finally pressing the one with the label Parker beside it.

“ _Hello_?”

“H–Hi!” Caelum said, teeth chattering, it was so _cold_. “This is Ca–Caelum! Is Peter there?”

“ _Caelum? Yes! Of course! Give me a minute sweetie!_ ” A moment later, a familiar buzz sounded and Caelum opened the locked door. He hurried, going for the elevator and stepping in immediately. He shivered, rubbing his arms and gritting his teeth as he pressed the level seven button.

The elevator churned to life, as if it were about to break down at any moment. Caelum prayed it wouldn't. He waited until it gave a short ding and the door opened.

Peter stood outside it. When the doors opened, he pulled him out and wrapped him in a hug, “ _Cael_! God, do you know how worried Sarah and Dorri are?! Where have you _been_!? We thought you were taken again! Why are you wet?” The boy let go and looked him over.

“S–So–Sorry,” Caelum breathed, shaking. It was so cold. “I–I—”

“Bring him inside! He's probably going to freeze to death!” May fussed, and Peter took his arm, leading him in their house again.

Caelum stood, and peeled off his wet, worn  tennis shoes with a hole on the side. He needed a new pair, now his feet and socks were soaking. “Peter, give him some of your clothes,” May Parker ordered, and Peter disappeared down the hall and into his room. “Caelum, you take those wet things off and give them to me ― I'll wash it.”

“Ye–Yes, ma'am,” Caelum said, beginning to take it off. He was left in just his boxer briefs when Peter returned to the room.

When he saw Caelum, his face lit up and went a very deep red. Caelum supposed he was only in his boxer shorts. He felt a bit embarrassed too, but was too cold to blush. “ _Here_ ,” he gave him a grey tee-shirt and gym shorts. Caelum took it and quickly slipped them on. Then, he rubbed his curly hair that had gotten loose in the rain. It stuck to his face and Caelum tried to get them dry without getting the rest of the house wet.

Peter thankfully handed him a towel. “Where have you been?” He asked again.

“Are you hungry?” May asked, “I can order some food really quick.”

Caelum nodded, all he had to eat was a apple that morning. “Yes, please.” May smiled and Caelum hung the towel around his neck.

“What happened?” Peter insisted.

“I. . .” He frowned, “Some guy, he. . . said that. . . well, he spoke and I. . . I couldn't stop myself from following him.” He didn't know how to explain it would him sounding like a crazy person. “It was like. . . Mind control. . .”

“Really?” Peter asked and Caelum nodded.

“It was _really_ weird.”

“Are you okay?” May asked and he hesitated. He couldn't tell her that he was forced to possess a dog. God, the thought made him want to vomit again.

“Yes, Ma'am, I am,” he lied, and swallowed heavily. Peter rose an eyebrow at him, suspecting the lie. “It's. . . just been a long day. . .” That was to say the least.

“Well, how about I order a pizza, huh?” She gave a comforting smile. “What do you boys want?”

“Pepperoni,” Peter said and looked at him.

“Uh, veggie,” he said, he didn't usually eat pizza, not if he could help it.

“Alright, you two go sit down, I'll go call Sarah and Dorri, tell them you're okay,”  May said, and Caelum frowned, Sarah and Dorri?

He didn't ask about the names. He moved, sluggishly, following behind Peter and falling on the side of his bed. He exhaled slightly, rubbing the side of his face. “ _So_. . .” Peter said, tapping his knee and sitting in a swivel chair.

Caelum was suddenly keenly aware of his words earlier that day, of how he had possessed a woman and then pushed past him to leave. Peter probably thought he was kidnapped. He probably thought he was never going to see him again. Caelum wondered if he spoke to Spider-Man yet. It was so soon after everything that happened, he couldn't possibly know. But, then again, but the look he was giving him, Caelum knew he did.

“I'm sorry for what I said,” Caelum said first, not allowing Peter to talk. “It wasn't fair to you, I was just. . . upset over the entire situation, and I lashed out on you. I'm sorry.”

“Okay,” Peter said, obviously hinting at having more to say. “Look. . . I. . .”

“He told you, didn't he?” Caelum was suddenly angry. “ _Spider-Man_ ,” he spat the title like poison. “He told him _everything_ , didn't he?”

“Well. . . _technically_. . .”

“Peter,” Caelum stared at the boy, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just. . . there was a lot going on. . .”

“You mean the possessing thing?” Peter gave a small smile. “Yeah, I guess that a little. . . _odd_ , but I don't care about that ― _really_.”

Caelum looked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled that quirky grin again and Caelum couldn't help a nervous chuckle. “When did you know?”

“After the accident at Kaxton,” Caelum explained, “I look at one of the nurses and then, I was in her body.”

“That’s _cool_!” He grinned and Caelum frowned.

“Not really. . .  I don't like. . . taking control of someone else like that. I mean, it's certainly a useful gift, but I just. . . I don't want to hurt people with it.”

“Have you?”

“ _No_!” Caelum said, then immediately frowned, “I mean, yes. I _have_ ― Principal Davis. . .”

“Oh,” he frowned, but then he shrugged. “Well, Principal Davis deserved it, after everything he did to you.”

“No, Peter,” Caelum looked exhausted and began to rant. “That's the _issue_! Taking some life, their freewill, into my hands, it's _dangerous_ , I could get someone _killed_ ― I put Principal Davis into a _coma_ and I–I didn't even _mean_ to do that! I got upset and everything was moving at once and―!” Caelum sighed, calming himself down. “It's different than the _Daredevil_ , or _Iron Man_ , or anyone else. They are _responsible_ for their own actions, if something happens, _they_ get blamed, but this. . . this is _possession_ , Peter. I could ruin someone's _life_ and not even know it. I could get someone _killed_. That’s what I hate about all these. . . these _super people_ , people who go out on the streets and take the law into their own hands. Who am I to decide things like that? I’m not. . . I’m not _God_. I’m not the _police_. I’m just some kid from Queens who had a freak accident happen to them. I’m not going to done a suit and call myself _Spider-Man_ because of it.”

“That’s not fair,” Peter said defensively. “Spider-Man _helps_ people.”

“Yeah, until _Spider-Man_ meets some kind of obstacle,” Caelum countered. “Then, it becomes either Spider-Man stops the bad guy, or Spider-Man helps the people. How can anyone decide something like that? That kind of ultimatum, it isn’t _fair_. And. if something goes wrong, if someone _dies_ , then it’s Spider-Man’s fault. With my power, I can push the blame, I can make it _anyone’s_ fault except my own. It’s. . . it’s scary, what I can do. I don’t like it.”

  
“Do you use it?” Peter asked, “Have you used it before?”

“Yeah,” Caelum said. “When I worked at the bar, with Mr. Hills, I used it to stop fights that would break out. Or, at the police department, I used it to get my way inside.”

“Well, you haven’t used it to hurt anyone ― besides Principal Davis ― and you didn’t use it to, I dunno, rob a bank. You’re in the clear, Cael. I think you’re pretty safely on the good side of things.”

Caelum felt a smile twitch his lips, but then he frowned again, “I thought about it, sometimes,” Caelum said softly. “To possess my dad or Principal Davis, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know,” Caelum admitted. “I think I felt like if I did, I would become them, in some way. It’s stupid,” he shook his head, rubbing his brow.

Peter nodded, and gave him a smile, “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Cael,” Peter said. “I think you’re just stressed.” Caelum laughed and Peter’s grin got even wider.

“Did Spider-Man tell you anything else?” Caelum had to ask, and suddenly Peter’s cheeks dusted red.

“Technically,” Peter rubbed the back of his head. “He didn’t. . . _have_ to tell me anything,” Caelum rose an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I―”

“ _Boys_! Pizza’s here,” May called from the front door. Caelum stood, but still watched Peter curiously.

“What were you going to say?” He asked, as he went to the door.

“Nevermind,” Peter brushed it off, and Caelum frowned, feeling the secret trying to creep its way into the conversation before hiding away again. He went to the door and opened it, May was at the kitchen counter, two steaming medium-pizzas in front of her.

Caelum thanked the woman ― both for the pizza and for letting him in her home. “No problem, sweetheart,” May smiled, and handed him a plate. Caelum served himself some of the vegetable pizza, and Peter got the pepperoni.

Caelum didn’t like pizza much ― it was way too greasy for his liking ― but at the same time, he was practically starved, so he ate every last bit, and then had seconds.

“So,” May smiled, “What were you doing today? Sarah and Dorri are glad to hear that you’re safe.”

“I was looking for a new job,” Caelum lied, giving Peter’s aunt a kind smile. “It. . . didn’t go as I planned, as you can see.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” She frowned, and then glanced at Peter, who was eying Caelum closely, not wanting to say something, but wanting to speak up at the same time. “Sarah said that the police found your brothers ― I got the Amber Alert when they were first reported missing. Thank god, most kids don’t come back after being snatched like that.”

“Yes, I heard,” Caelum said. “I’m glad they’re safe. I’ll have to have a word with their social worker, something must have gotten. . . _miscommunicated_ for them not to report them missing in the first place.” _Or, they were bribed._

May nodded, taking another bite of pizza. “Oh! I almost forgot, Dorri told me to tell you that a man came to the Cafe earlier, about your inheritance from your mother. They said it would be going into a trust account.”

Caelum blinked, surprised, he almost forgot about the inheritance. He remembered his father coming to him, and his intimidating instructions. “Thank you, Mrs. Parker. I’ll speak with him later.”

She smiled, and picked up her empty plate, “Glad to be of use!” She rinsed the plate off and stuck it in the dishwasher. Caelum suddenly got a vision of his mother, when he was still at the apartment. Her short, relaxed hair hiding her neck as she scrubbed the plate clean. His brothers sitting across from him, and his father to his right, the ghost to his left.

He would never have that again.

“Thank you for the food, Mrs. Parker,” Caelum said suddenly, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home ― he wanted to figure out where his ‘ _home_ ’ was, and then go there. He wanted to do a lot of things. He couldn’t stay here forever.

He finished his food and rinsed his plate, putting it in the dishwasher. “I don’t want to impose on you,” He said, “I should probably return home. My brothers will be worried.” No, no they wouldn’t. They were in the hospital, weren’t they? He furrowed his eyebrows, confused for a moment. God, this was all confusing.

“ _No_ ,” May said sternly. “It’s _way_ too dark to be going out right now ― and you look just about dead on your feet. What you need to do is _rest_. I already called Sarah and Dorri and your brothers are in a hospital at Hell’s Kitchen. The last train is probably stopped by now. I have a sleeping bag, you can sleep in Peter’s room, if it makes you feel better. If not, the couch pulls out, but _nobody_ is leaving this apartment.”

Caelum was a bit taken back by her words, and found himself saying, “ _Yes, ma’am_ ," before realizing what he was saying ‘ _yes_ ’ to.

May smiled warmly ― she and Peter had the same smile, but Caelum liked Peter’s better. “ _Good_! I’ll be right back ― Peter, put the food away.”

Peter, who had snuck out of his seat and was shoving another slice of pizza in his mouth while listening to the encounter, nodded. He moved, shifting the leftover pizza into one box and sticking it haphazardly into the fridge. “There’s no arguing with May,” Peter said, and smirked at him. “Come on, I need to go clean out some space in my room if you’re sleeping over.”

Caelum remembered the last time he slept with Peter, and suddenly got shivers down his spine. He knew he would be in a sleeping bag this time, but the reminder still made his ears grow hot and his body wanting. May came from around the corner, procuring a sleeping bag wrapped in elastic. She handed it to Peter, to gratefully took it.

“Don’t be up all night ― you two have school tomorrow morning,” Caelum suddenly remembered something that made him jolt.

_**Go back to school.** _

“Alright,” Peter said, and waved Caelum along. He followed, but the words still couldn’t seem to leave his head. _Go back to school. Go back to school._

Caelum had to return to school the next morning.

“ _Cael_?” Peter was talking, Caelum blinked.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I wanted to. . . explain something to you,” Peter said, and untied the sleeping bag. Caelum waited for the boy to talk. Peter straightened out the sleeping bag ― three times ― before standing up and facing him. Caelum could tell by the nervous look in his eyes and press of his pink lips that what he was about to say was very serious.

“What is it?” Caelum asked, suddenly quite worried. Did someone _die_? Was he _hurt_? Was it about his brothers?

“It's me — _I’m_ Spider-Man.”

Caelum wasn’t expecting _that_.


	32. - 32 -

** chapter thirty-two: **

  
Caelum didn’t believe him at first. He smiled and gave Peter a little look of confusion and disbelief. His head was tilted to the side and eyes squinted in trying to figure out if it was a joke. Peter, however wasn’t smiling, and suddenly Caelum realized that he was very serious.

“You are. . .?” Peter nodded, and suddenly it all made sense, how Spider-Man, Peter, knew his name. How he knew what happened after ‘ _Spider-Man_ ’ did. How invested he was in his life, why he was babysitting him and cared so much about him.

The _kiss_. He told Peter he _loved_ him without knowing it was Peter, and. . . Peter _kissed_ him.

Caelum’s hand flew to his mouth, his lips tingling against his skin from the memory. Peter seemed to realized what he just realized and gave a half-smile. “ _Yeah_. . .” Peter said.

“Oh, my _god_ ,” Caelum couldn’t think to say anything else. “Oh, my _god_.”

“I didn’t know you loved me, Cael,” Peter said, almost teasing, but also serious. Caelum covered his face in his hands.

“ _Oh, my god. Oh, my god_.”

Peter laughed, and Caelum felt his face get even hotter. He heard the bed shift where Peter was sitting and he stepped over, sitting beside him on the sleeping bag. “How long have you known?”

Caelum didn’t want to acknowledge the question, he wanted to live like Peter didn’t know that he loved him ― like everything was back to normal. “How long have you kept being Spider-Man from me?” Caelum countered, managing not to stammer despite his racing heart.

Peter pouted and Caelum felt his face burn even more. “I asked first,” he complained.

That was true, he needed distractions. “Since. . . middle school.” Peter looked shocked.

“ _Really_?” Caelum gave a guilty nod. “Wow. Is that why. . . why you stopped hanging out with me?”

“One of the reasons,” Caelum admitted. “My dad. . . he’s, uh, not cool with that. I had different priorities then. . .”

“I didn’t know. . . I never realized,” Peter said, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, that’s was the point,” he said a bit dryly, and Peter laughed. Caelum looked away, god, this boy was beautiful. “You didn’t answer my question,” he crossed his arms stubbornly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“After that speech you gave me on Thanksgiving?” Peter gave a little scoff, “Course I wasn’t going to tell you. ‘ _With great power comes great responsibility_ ’, remember? I thought by not telling you, I was keeping you safe ― you were my responsibility.”

“Does Ned know?” Caelum asked. Ned was his best friend, after all. “Does _anyone_ know?”

“Does anyone know about _you_?” That. . . was true. Caelum sighed, rubbing his face.

“This is a _mess_ ,” Caelum muttered.

“How so?”

“You weren’t _supposed_ to find out like _this_ ,” Caelum gave a shaky laugh. He was so nervous. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t want to be like Principal Davis and force himself on Peter. Yet, the urge to run his hands through his curly hair, kiss his faded freckles, feel his lips against his own. . .

God, his heart was _pounding_.

“How was I supposed to find out?” Peter asked, curiously.

“ _Never_ , preferably,” Caelum gave a small laugh. “I didn’t. . . I didn’t think you were gay, especially with your long-standing crush on Elizabeth Allen. . .”

“Okay, but reasonably, she is, like, the _hottest_ girl at school,” Peter defended and Caelum rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if I’m gay,” Peter suddenly said, “I never had to think about it. I know May would be cool with it if I was.”

“But,” Caelum frowned a bit, “ _You_ kissed _me_ ― earlier.”

“You didn’t object,” Caelum didn’t object. “Did you. . . did you not like it?”

“ _No_!” Caelum said immediately, “I mean, _yes_! I mean, I _did_ like it,” Caelum laughed a little. “I liked it a lot. I. . . I. . .” _Want to do it again._

“Can I kiss you again, Cael?” Caelum felt his heart flutter. How long he has been waiting for those words. He gave a slight nod, and Peter did.

His lips were soft, and Caelum about near melted on the spot. He brought his hands to his hair, feeling the soft, smooth curls between his fingers. Peter put his hands up his shirt, tracing small circles on his lower back, making it tingly and warm. He closed his eyes, remembering how much he imagined this ― _dreamed_ this.

Now, he was here, kissing Peter Parker. Caelum thought he was going to cry. Or laugh. Or _both_.

Peter suddenly lifted Caelum’s shirt, and he helped, eagerly shirtless. The gentle breeze it the A/C made his skin tingle and he gave a slight shiver. They kissed and kissed and kissed themselves to the ground, Caelum on his back and Peter over him, smiling mischievously. Caelum brought his hands to the sides of the boys face, and slowly ― deliberately ― kissed each and every freckle on the boy’s face. Peter laughed, and Caelum felt the warmth under his sensitive lips. “What are you doing?” He asked with a small chuckle. His voice was so smooth, it sent warmth down his spine.

“ _Kissing_ ―” He kissed another ― in between his eyes. “ _Your_ ―” one, right under his left eye. “ _Freckles_.” One, right on his neck ― only noticeable when he wore regular clothes and not the school uniform. As soon as his lips touched it, he began to suck on the skin. Peter gasped a little and Caelum grinned.

“ _Cael_. . .!” He said, surprised. When Caelum finished, he moved back to his lips. They moved against each other in a fluid motion, as if they were meant to be together, as if they were made for each other.

Peter moved, taking off his own shirt, and then began to move down to his torso. Caelum laughed, feeling the boy’s warm lips against his tender, dark skin. Caelum breathed heavily, his bare chest heaving loudly. He was shivering as and Peter kissed his way up his body. Caelum moaned again, and Peter liked that. He shifted, straddling Caelum to the floor as he leaned him, dangling his lips just a hair away, just so Caelum could feel his breath against his lips.

He moved up, smashing their faces together again. Peter laughed in their kiss and Caelum took his chance, slipping his tongue into the boy’s mouth, tasting his mouth with his own, drinking him in ― tasting like pizza and smelling like shea butter lotion.

Peter was a little shocked by this, but quickly went along. There was no space between each other, as they fought ― literally mouth-to-mouth ― for domination.

Caelum took the boy by the waist, twisting him and positioning himself over Peter. Peter looked up at him, his brown eyes shining with playful lust. Caelum dipped, moving his mouth along the boy’s pale skin, kissing and kissing and kissing. He quickly fell in love with kissing ― and kissing _him_.

Peter twisted and moaned, “ _Cael_!” He gasped and Caelum laughed eagerly.

They continued doing this for nearly an hour, before they both were sweaty and horny and tired. Caelum laid against the ground, Peter just beside him. Both of them sporting very well made hickeys ― Peter’s more visible than Caelum’s of course. They were both a little out of breath, even though both of them had ― _somehow_ ― managed to keep their pants on.

Caelum wondered what time it was. He knew it was late, maybe nearing midnight. He was also getting a bit cold, his significant lack of clothing had cause goosebumps to run across his skin.

Peter moved beside him, twisting his fingers through his curly hair. Caelum hummed pleasantly, loving how he touched him, loving how near he was. “ _Cael_?” Peter spoke gently.

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever. . . possess _me_?” Caelum froze, and Peter brought his hand from his hair.

“. . . Yes,” he said, even though every bone in him told him to lie.

“Why? When?” Peter was interested, he turned so they were looking each other right in the eyes. Caelum felt the back of his neck tingle ― it had been tingling all night.

“Remember when we went shopping downtown, and my dad got angry and he dragged me to your door?” Caelum asked, fiddling with his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“He asked you where we had been ― I told him you knew, I shouldn't have told him that. The first question he asked you got right, but then he said who's house we went to. I knew you wouldn't get it, so I possessed you.” Caelum frowned a bit, remembering what happened. “Everything was so. . . loud and. . . smelly. How do you do it?”

“ _Aspirin_ ,” Peter said dryly, and Caelum laughed, “If I ― well, _you_ ― gave the right answer, why did your dad beat you?”

“Because I still lied to him,” Caelum explained. “He doesn't like being lied to.”

Peter shifted, and Caelum rubbed his face, silently tracing where Peter had touched him. His cheeks, his hair, his lips. “Can I ask another question?”

Caelum gave a small wave, prompting the boy to continue. “You said someone was. . . mind controlling you?” Caelum frowned, he didn't want to talk about that. “Was it _Loki_? Like, from the Incident? I heard on. . . _websites_ that he mind controlled people when he came. Do you think that happened to you?”

“No, I don't think so,” Caelum frowned, remembering the grainy images of the Norse god that tried to take over the world about eight years ago. “Loki looked different, at least from what I've seen on TV. I don't think he'd just be. . . in New York like that. Besides, the Avengers would know if he was. This was someone else ― probably someone like us.”

“What did he make you do? Did he find out about your power?”

“Yeah,” Caelum frowned. “I. . . he just asked me how I was able to do what I did to Principal Davis without touching him, and I told him.”

“Did he make you possess anyone?” Caelum gave a small nod. “Oh. . . I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Caelum made a face, he didn't want to talk about it, but he couldn’t keep it bottled up in him like this. “He. . . he told me to show him, and I did. Then, he. . . he made me possess a dog.”

Peter sat up, shocked, “You can―” he cut himself off, realizing he was loud. “You can possess _animals_?!”

“I didn't _know_ I could,” Caelum admitted. “I never _experimented_ with it before.” Suddenly the memory, his mind being crammed in the animals, that disgusting taste in his mouth, how loud everything, everyone was, the smell ― god the smell.

Caelum swallowed, “It was. . . _revolting_.”

“I'm so sorry, Cael,” Peter moved closer, rubbing his arm. Caelum calmed from the touch, reassured by the presence of the boy.

“Thanks,” Caelum smiled, and then ran a hand through his tangled, messy hair. He needed to cut it soon. “I have a question for you.”

“Really?” Peter grinned, and Caelum nudged him.

“Why did you kiss me? Back at the apartment?” Caelum couldn't help himself from asking. It had been plaguing his mind since the boy confessed his identity to him.

Peter was quiet for a minute. Caelum turned to look at him, but he couldn't see much in the darkness of the room. The moon was covered by clouds, so the only light was the yellowish street lights only dimly seen. It caused the dark room to seem a little moody, a little mysterious, and Caelum couldn't help a chill sweep down his back.

“I don't know,” Peter finally said. “When you confessed that you loved me, and wanted me to be happy, I just. . . couldn't help myself, I guess. I realized how stupid it was because you weren't kissing back at first, and I felt terrible because I know Principal Davis did the same thing to you and I don't. . . I don't want to be like him.”

“You could _never_ be like him," Caelum said and Peter smiled a bit, reassured. “I didn't do anything at first because I was _shocked_. I. . . I never really kissed anyone my age before that.”

Peter rose an eyebrow at this, “ _Really_?” He nodded and laughed a little. “Then, I'm happy I stole your first kiss.” Caelum chuckled, twisting his fingers, looking away embarrassed. “I have another question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you pull away, if you liked it?”

“Because you told me you were Peter's best friend,” Caelum frowned. “I'm my head, I was kissing _you_ ― I mean, I know now you're the same person _now_ , but I didn't know that _then_. So. . . I thought it was like, betraying you, I guess. Or, at least, betraying how I felt of you.”

“You thought you were cheating on me?” Peter asked, teasingly.

Caelum's face burned and he pushed Peter arm, making the boy laugh, “It was _complicated_! And I was having a bad day!”

“No, I understand,” Peter grinned and moved closed, kissing his cheek. Caelum felt shudders run through his body, and he moved his face so he would kiss his lips again.

Peter obliged happily and Caelum smiled warmly. When they finally pulled apart, Caelum looked at the ceiling, and the fan spinning rapidly causing a gentle breeze through the room.

“You don't know. . . you don't know how _long_ I've waited,” Caelum said quietly. “I've been here, wanting this, needing this, for so long, but. . . I thought that if I asked, it would make our relationship _weird_. I thought that you wouldn't like it if I was. . . the way I was.”

“I would _never_ do that!” Peter exclaimed, and Caelum nodded.

“I know. I know now, at least," he said. "But, I was so scared of everything, and I didn't want to get you caught up, y’know?”

“Well, that went as planned, huh?” Peter said and Caelum laughed again, shaking his head. “I'm happy.”

“ _Hmm_?”

“You said you wanted to be there for me ― to make me happy. I am ― I'm happy.” Caelum gave a small smile, shaking his head a bit. He heard Peter turn to him. “Hey? Did you hear that?”

“I did.”

“So? What do you think?”

“I'm happy too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I'm happy you found me and helped me and stayed with me. I'm happy you're my friend, Parker.”

“Are you going to keep calling me Parker?”

“Oh, no. I'm going to keep calling you Parker ― just because it makes you upset.”

“Cael?”

“Yeah?”

Peter rolled over on him, laying his bare back on Caelum's chest. He gave a small ' _oof_ ’ but didn't say anything else. “Call me Peter.”

“No.” He moved, now laying completely over him, Caelum moved his head to the side and laughed, feeling the boy's heartbeat against his own.

“Call me Peter.”

“Nope.” He twisted so that they were stomach to stomach, his face in the crook of his neck, Caelum could feel the boy lightly pressing his lips to it and tensed.

“Call me Peter.”

Caelum stayed silent. Peter began to kiss his neck, sucking hard and Caelum gasped, tingling going through his body. “ _Cael_?”

“Ye–Yes?” His pride refused to lose this game.

“Call me Peter.”

“Never.” He moved his lips from his neck to just over his lips, his hands held his head, keeping him from moving forward.

“Do it.” Caelum bit his tongue, shaking from the effort to keep himself from doing so. Peter began to kiss around his lips. All around. His eyes, his cheeks, his hair, his forehead, but not on his lips, the one place he wanted it most.

He moved down his face and bit gently on his ear. That's what did it. “ _Ah_! Peter!” Peter moved quickly and grinned, Caelum frowned, but couldn't help the smile growing around it.

Then they kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

And when they stopped kissing and finally went to sleep, Caelum thought about everything, about how his feelings for Peter led him here. How it could have been different in so many ways.

And how it wasn't. How it was this and nothing else.

Algol Caelum Forest realized that night that there was someone who could love him, despite his flaws and anger and fear. He realized that there was someone who needed him just as much as he needed them. There was someone where he could find a balance with, someone he could trust and love at the same time. Someone who would help if he asked, and since he never asked, helped anyway.

There was someone who was snoring just a few feet away that made him the happiest he has ever been.

Algol Caelum Forest realized that Peter loved him, just liked he had prayed and hoped and dreamed.

He realized that maybe he was living a charmed life, and that life was made for him.


	33. - 33 -

** chapter thirty-three: **

  
When Caelum woke up, he didn't quite understand what was going on. His head felt fuzzy and his back was sore. He inhaled sharply, turning on his other side. He began to drift off again, when he felt a steady, warm breeze against his face. He murmured, raising a hand to block it absentmindedly.

He heard a snore and some mumbling, “Leave m’lone. . . Tired. . .”

Caelum froze, then he shot straight up, backing up as far and as fast as he could. His mind immediately went to Principal Davis, and the days he spent sleeping with him. The torture of the night and the soreness in the morning.

He hit the wall with a small thump, and a book teetered dangerously on the table beside him, ready to fall down. The mass on the bed moved, Caelum closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He shouldn't have moved, he was going to kill him now. He should've stayed where he was.

He pulled at his hair, body trembling and he couldn't help the small noises of fear that escaped his lips. His heart was pounding so hard that he felt like it would have shot right out of his chest. His eyes began to water, as he heard the bed creak softly, it's weight shifting.

“Mmm. . . 'ey, Cael?” Someone placed a gentle hand on his knee. Caelum looked up slowly, and recognized Peter. “You okay? Did you have a nightmare?” Caelum didn't know how to respond. Peter draped his arms around his neck, and rubbed the back of his head.

Caelum sat frozen for a moment, listening to the boy, his body, his breath, his heartbeat against his own. Caelum arms moved around him slowly, as the memories from last night resurfaced and made itself clear in his mind.

They had kissed. They made out. Peter loved him, and he said it. He _knew_ it. “Cael? You okay?”

“Mm. . . yeah, I, uh. . .” he rubbed the tears out of his eyes. “I. . . I, uhm, panicked.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I thought. . .” He sniffed, and looked away. Peter pulled back, and Caelum suddenly missed the familiar heat of his body on his own. “I woke up and I just. . . I panicked. I thought I was with Principal Davis again, and I. . . uh. . .” He rubbed the back of his neck, which tingled when he looked at Peter. “I apologize for waking you up, and making a lot of noise. I should have thought better of it. It was inconsiderate of me, especially since I―”

Peter moved forward, and kissed him — full on the lips. Caelum stopped talking immediately. He leaned in and returned it, wrapping his arms around his waist, wanting Peter closer ― never wanting to let go of him.

They broke the kiss a few minutes later in order to breathe. Caelum was laughing quietly, and Peter stood holding out a hand to him. “What's so funny?” Peter asked, helping the boy up.

“Nothing,” Caelum smiled sheepishly. “I was just thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?” Peter grinned the sunny grin that made Caelum's eyes light up and everything around him brighter.

“ _You_ ,” he admitted. He remembered a time when Peter asked a similar question, and Caelum responded the same way ― well, he did and then lied immediately.

“About _me_?” Peter turned and went to his closet, shuffling around a bit. “What _about_ me?”

“I was thinking,” Caelum moved forward, leaning on his back. “About your smile.”

Peter laughed, and stood up, handing a bundle of clothes to Caelum to get changed into. “My smile?” He repeated and Caelum grinned wide.

“Yes! You have the best smile I have ever seen,” Peter stared at him, his cheeks tinting red in a blush. Caelum chuckled, amused by his reddened face. “Your smile can light up a room, you know that? I've always wanted to tell you. I love seeing you smile.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and smiled. Caelum kissed him, on the cheek, where the smile wrinkled slightly. Peter chuckled and Caelum took the clothes he held from him.

“Can I use your shower?” Caelum asked and Peter wave a hand.

“Be my guest. You _stink_.” Caelum hit his arm and Peter laughed loudly. He glanced down at the worn tee-shirt and jeans. The glanced back at the closet, where Peter was picking up a familiar set of clothes.

A Midtown high school uniform. The yellow blazer and beige slacks, complete with the wrinkled, white buttoned shirt.

 ** _Go back to school_**.

Caelum dropped the clothes and walked towards the door, taking the uniform from him before he could hang it back up. “After we eat, we can― _hey_!” Peter cut himself off, grabbing his arm. “Where are you going? You dropped your clothes.”

“I have to go,” his voice was desperate and something. . . _other_. Tears burned his eyes, he had to go to school. He had to go to school. “I _have_ to go. I have to _go_!”

“Go _where_?” Caelum yanked his arm away and headed for the door again. Something hit him in the back and suddenly he was yanked to the ground.

Caelum struggled to get back up, but Peter kept him down, sitting on his chest and holding his arms away from him. “Now, do you want to explain where you’re―?”

Caelum blinked, and was in Peter's body again. The loud noise, the incessant buzzing in his ears, the blinding lights ― all of it.

He hissed, but stood and went back to his own body. He scrambled up as soon as he could and went for the door again.

Peter, who was a lot more disoriented, realized what was going on and lunged at him. They both fell against the door, Caelum putting his hands out to stop himself. As soon as they touched the door, Peter webbed them in place, leaving him hanging there, his arms above his head, and panting. “Did you―?” Peter breathed, trying to calm himself down. “Did you just _possess_ me?”

“I have to _go_!” He snapped, his limbs shaking and scared.

“You have to go _where_ , Cael?” Peter demanded, setting his web-shooters down. He must've grabbed them off his desk. “What's wrong with you?”

“I have to go to school,” He breathed. He didn't _want_ to go to school. He wanted to stay _here_. He wanted to stay with _Peter_. “I have to go to school.”

“Why? What's at school?”

“Let me out of here! I have to—I have to—!” He breathed for a minute, leaning against the door weakly. Peter just stared at him, shocked and confused.

“Is there someone at school? Will Principal Davis be there?” A sudden jolt went through him, remembering his office, sleeping with him, waking up the next morning, bloody and sore and disgusting.

He closed his eyes. God, he didn't want to think of that. “I have to go to school.”

“Is someone forcing you to do this?” Peter came to his side, not taking the sticky webbing off or looking at him. He stared at the ground but continued to talk. “Did someone tell you to go? Are you meeting someone?”

“I have to go.”

“Can you nod your head yes, or shake it no?”

He could do this, he nodded, “I have to go to school.”

Peter noticed. “ _Okay_! Is someone forcing you to go to school?”

Caelum nodded, “I have to go to school.”

“Is it someone I know?” He shook his head.

“Let me go! I have to go to school.”

“Is it. . . is it someone like us?” He nodded fiercely.

“Parker, let me go! I have to go _now_!” His eyes were pleading him to help. He didn't want to leave Peter at all. He didn't want to to go away from him after they has just gotten so close.

Peter thought for a long minute, then it clicked and his jaw dropped. “The mind control guy! _Loki_ — no, _not_ Loki. Someone different, probably _like_ Loki! He's doing this!?” He nodded, nearly sagging with relief. “So, he told you to go to school, and you have to go, right?” Caelum nodded. “Well, did he tell you to _stay_ there, or to _go_ to school?”

Caelum frowned, thinking for a minute, “I. . . I have to _go_ to school.”

“ _Okay_ ,” he nodded, “Okay. Then, we'll just go to school, and then leave. That way, you would have _gone_ to school, right?” Peter frowned for a minute, “Did he specify _which_ school?”

Caelum shook his head and Peter grinned. “There's a Catholic school a few block down ― we can go there, then come back!” Caelum laughed and Peter began to pry his hands off the door, his fingers grasped it easily and didn't seem to stick like Caelum's. He easily got it off and wiped his hand so his shorts. “Alright. Go take a shower, then we can go to the school, and then we can visit your brothers in the hospital. How's that?” Caelum nodded, he liked that.

“ _Cool_! May's already at work, we should be fine — come on.” He opened the door and led them out. Caelum followed and Peter grabbed a folded towel off the couch, tossing it to him. “Here's a towel, there's extra wash clothes in the bathroom. I'll make breakfast ― do you eat eggs?”

“Boiled eggs,” Caelum replied, and Peter nodded.

Caelum went to shower as Peter cooked. It was brief and refreshingly cold. Caelum didn't want to use all the hot water ― he never took hot showers because of that. He remembered the cold showers and baths of his childhood, and the struggles that seemed so minor to the younger version of him. The version where he was still innocent, and the ghost still living and well.

He pushed the memory away and stepped out of the shower, dabbing himself dry and dressing in Peter's clothes. He waited for a moment recognizing a bottle of Shea butter lotion on the countertop.

He eyes it suspiciously, tempting, but ultimately decided against it. Was that weird? Was that crossing a line? Peter probably used that every day, Caelum always smelt it on him, and what would he use it for? The thought tempted him, what _else_ would a teenage boy use a bottle of _lotion_ for?

But not _Peter's_ , he chided himself. He was already imposing on their house, he needed to leave something sacred.

He rolled his eyes and finished getting dressed, stepping out of the bathroom. He was wearing jeans and a black tee-shirt with some kind of emblem on it. Peter was in the kitchen, whipping himself up some eggs. Caelum noticed a pot of water boiling on the eye beside him. “Be careful,” he warned, and Peter glanced over his shoulder.

He stuck his tongue out childishly. “I know how to cook eggs!” Peter said, and Caelum smiled, moving to sit down.

“Just a warning,” he raised his hands in defense and Peter smiled. He finished cooking his eggs and slipped them on a plate. They were full of cheese and bits of meat, but Caelum saw a few pieces of greens in it too.

Caelum smirked as Peter started eating, gouging down on breakfast while Caelum waited for the boiled eggs to be done. “ _Hey_!” Peter said, his mouth still a bit full. Caelum rolled his eyes and pushed his face to the side so nothing inside of it tried to escape and seek refuge in him.

“Chew and swallow,” he scolded, and Peter laughed.

He finished eating and prompted him again. “You didn't tell me you spoke French.” Caelum rose his eyebrow.

“How do you know I speak French?” He asked curiously. He couldn't remember this coming up in a recent conversation of theirs.

“At your mom's funeral. You spoke French when you went up to talk,” Peter explained. “I thought you took Russian.”

 _Oh_. He forgot about that. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “My mother taught me her native tongue when I was little. So, _technically_ , I'm bilingual.”

Peter rose an eyebrow, “You didn't tell me that!”

“You never asked.”

“Say something in French!”

“ _Really_?” Caelum frowned.

“Yeah!”

“You know that the most overused line―!”

“Just do it!”

Caelum shook his head, “ _Chose_ _importante_ (say something),” he said blandly.

“I don't know what that meant, but I think you just said _something_ in French and that's not what I meant and you know it.” Caelum couldn't help this. He laughed, grabbing his midsection as his eyes watered with tears. Peter was pouting, which made Caelum laugh even harder.

When he finally got himself under control, he grinned, “Okay, okay.” He glanced away and began to speak in French. “ _Vous_ _êtes_ _un_ _garçon_ _stupide_ _._ _Je_ _regrette_ _de_ _tomber_ _amoureux_ _de_ _toi_ _._ _Et_ _pourtant_ _,_ _chaque_ _moment que_ _je_ _passe_ _avec_ _toi_ _fait_ _courir_ _mon_ _cœur_ _un_ _peu_ _vite._ _Chaque_ _respiration que_ _je_ _partage_ _avec_ _toi_ _me fait vivre_ _un_ _peu_ _plus_ _longtemps_ _,_ (You are a silly boy. I regret falling in love with you. And yet, every moment I spend with you makes my heart race a little fast. Every breath I share with you makes me live a little longer,)” he took deep breath and  laughed a little. “ _Jee_ _hais_ _,_ _et_ _je_ _te_ _détesterai_ _toujours_ _de_ _m'avoir_ _fait_ _ressentir_ _cela_ _, de me_ _rendre_ _émotif_ _._ _Et_ _pourtant_ _,_ _il_ _n'y_ _a_ _aucun_ _moyen_ _que_ _je_ _puisse_ _vous_ _rembourser_ _pour_ _m'avoir_ _donné_ _un_ _coeur._ (I hate you, and I will always hate you for making me feel this way, making me emotional. And yet, there is no way I can repay you for giving me a heart.)”

Peter stared at him and Caelum smiled up at him, “What did that mean?” He asked, and Caelum laughed.

“Like _hell_ I'm telling you,” he said and Peter frowned angrily at him.

“ _Cael_!” He whined and Caelum laughed.

“Nope, sorry. You'll just have to take French in order to understand.”

“But–But I didn't record it!”

“Not my fault. The world may never know.”

“Did you just insult me in French?” Peter demanded. “For a whole minute?”

“Not saying.”

“Maybe, you confessed your love to me,” he grinned. “' _Peter, you are the most handsome boy I have ever seen_ ’!” He said in a high, tinny voice that Caelum refused to believe that it was supposed to be a bad impression of him. “ _Oh Peter, my Peter, take me into your strong arms and bring me far away from here_ ’!”

“Shut _up_!” Caelum said, but was blushing too hard to make it sound serious.

“' _Kiss me, Peter! Be my knight in shining armour! Let me show up to your doorstep bloody and dying so that you can heroically save me_ ’!” He made kissing noises and Caelum was tempted to throw the salt shaker at him. Instead, he threw a spoon.

Peter caught it and set it down, Caelum crossed his arms looking away while they continued to bicker playfully. Meanwhile, the eggs on the stove boiled over, but neither boy minded.

Finally, they finished and Caelum grabbed his eggs, leaving it in a cup of cold water for five minutes before peeling and eating them. Caelum forced Peter to shower ― he smelt just as bad as he had after all. Then they both went to go down to the Catholic children's school a few blocks down.

Peter was happy, in the bright sun and crisp airs. He laughed and joked and Caelum smiled along with him. At some point, he took Caelum's hand. At first, he jolted surprised, but then he eased himself into it. He liked this familiarity. He liked Peter being beside him, being with him. He liked him, he liked Peter.

Caelum waved to a few of his neighbours as they passed, a few he recognized as his father's friends, some he saw at his mother's funeral. They nodded and a few rose curious eyebrows are him, but didn't say anything.

When they made it to the school, Peter made a grand show of directing him through the doorway. “Here we are!” He grinned and Caelum nudged his arm, shaking his head. He stepped foot in the doorway, and immediately felt a stress lift off his shoulders. “Better?” He asked and Caelum nodded.

“ _Yes_ ,” he grinned. “Thanks, a lot Peter. You should, uh, probably head to school now.” Peter gave him that stubborn frown and Caelum knew the boy would not listen.

“Come on,” he lead the way, taking his hand. “We're going to go to the hospital to visit your brothers, alright?”

“If you insist,” Caelum said, rubbing his neck.

“I do ' _insist_ ’. Actually―”

Caelum froze, his eyebrows furrowed, thinking about something May had said the night before.

“. . . _A_ _man came to the Cafe earlier, about your inheritance from your mother. They said it would be going into a trust account_.”

He remembered his father's warning, his father's demand. “No, we can't,” Caelum said and Peter turned to look at him.

“What do you mean we can't?”

“Sarah and Dorri's, we have to go the the–their–the Café, their house, first,” Caelum sounded a bit frantic, but he knew he was in his own mind, he knew this was going his own decision. “I'm not being mind controlled, don't worry. I just—we need to go there first, okay?”

“Well. . . we have the whole day ahead of us, so no need to rush.” Peter reasoned, taking his hand again. “Let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> What is this?? Two fluffy chapters in a row!? Also, I'm sorry this is coming out later than usual, I was binging American Vandal --- which is a shit excuse, but that show is amazing lol. I wanted to ask if any of you guys reading this story, would be willing to take a survey? I wanna know what kind of stories you guys like, and I figured the best way to do that is statistics.
> 
> If you're willing to answer a few questions for me, then just comment --- or review, whatever --- your answers. If you're not, it's cool, the updates will still be rolling!
> 
> I also wanted to say thank you guys. You guys are literally amazing. I just passed my four year anniversary of me beginning to write a few weeks ago and, just. . . the development that I've seen from you guys, from my writing, it's. . . it's a lot. And of course, you guys are pretty much 75 percent of it. So, thank you. Thank you for reading, voting, reviewing, commenting, listing, favouriting, kudoing, stalking, whatever. Just thank you so much.
> 
> I've come a long way, but this train of angst (traingst?) isn't going to stop anytime soon, I can 110 percent assure you.
> 
> Okay, enough fluff, both from me and this chapter. We've got seven chapters left until the big finale, and you guys haven't cried enough.
> 
> Oh, you're so going to hate me :). I'll see y'all next time. And remember. . .
> 
> Don't melt~!  
> \- Happyritas 


	34. - 34 -

**chapter thirty-four** **:**

  
Peter realised that he would have to lead the way to Sarah and Dorri's once Caelum had gotten the to turned around and into the wrong direction three-too-many times. Caelum didn't mind, but Peter liked to take the scenic route, pointing out small things and saying good morning to people Caelum never talked to.

Caelum didn't realise he knew so little about his neighbourhood and he people in it until Peter brought them to an older woman. She was sitting in a bench, pigeons and other winged rats at her feet as she slowly fed them breadcrumbs. The pigeons were pecking around her, in almost a perfect circle, and Caelum rose an eyebrow, intrigued.

Peter greeted her in Spanish that took Caelum a moment to understand. Although Spanish was similar to French in some areas, the dialect and the tones where a lot different and softer than he was used to. " _Buenos_ _días_ _, Nana_ (good morning, Grandma/Grannie.) " Peter greeted, he moved to sit beside her, and grinned.

The woman turned and smiled. " _Percy_! How have you been?" She moved a bony hand to ruffle his pushed back curls. Peter let her, and grinned.

"Good, this is my friend, Caelum." The woman turned and looked up at Caelum. He smiled politely. He was never great around older people, to they weren't as susceptible to his charm and manipulation. He highly doubted 'Nana' would be any different.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he stuck his hand out to him. "How are you?"

"I am good, thank you," she grinned, exposing gums and missing teeth. She motioned to the bag of breadcrumbs at her side. "Take a bit, why don't you?"

Caelum cringed at the thought of willingly feeding a flock of pigeons. He didn't want to be rude and deny her request, but at the same time the idea of having dirty city birds following him when he ran out was annoying.

But, this woman was older, and he was raised to be polite and not self-serving. He gently took the bag from the woman and fed a considerable pinch full to the birds. The woman hummed and Peter smirked a little.

"It is such a good day out, isn't it?" She said and looked around her. Despite her older figure, her face looked quite young. Of course, she had liver spots and wrinkle lines on her skin, she still had vibrant, lively brown eyes and long matching, hair. Caelum wondered what she had been in the prime of her life. How did she get to the point where she too was throwing bread crumbs, hoping someone would bite.

Nana offered the bag to Peter, who gently took it, spreading the crumbs out for the birds to peck at it. They sat in silence for several minutes, but Nana spoke again. "It is such a beautiful day outside," she commented again.

"It is," Caelum replied, squirming a bit.

"Back in my day, I would be in the air during times like this," she said and Caelum wondered if they were going to get a lecture. "Blue clouds, brisk air, sun on my back. It was beautiful, Percy. You should have been there." Caelum rose an eyebrow at he title but Peter seemed unfazed. Caelum offered the bag to Peter who smirked and took it, gently tossing the breadcrumbs around.

"Do you need help with anything, Nana?" Peter asked and she just smiled and patted his hand.

"Not today, but thank you, Percy, you're so thoughtful, bless your heart." Peter set the bag down and the woman smiled. "You two have a good day now," she said.

"You too, Nana," Peter replied and nudged Caelum along. Caelum gave the woman one last smile before turning to leave. She continued to silently feed the birds, humming to herself.

When they finally out of earshot, Caelum went to Peter. "Who was that?"

"Nana, she practically raised Aunt May when she was younger. She's been on this street forever. I'm surprised you didn't know her."

"My parents moved up here when I was in fourth grade, remember?" Caelum reminded. "I used to live in Harlem."

Peter nodded, remembering this information. "Well, she's a nice lady. And, she's. . . you know. . . like us." Caelum blinked, confused at first.

" _What_?"

"She's Enhanced. She has been as long as I've known her." Caelum's eyebrows rose.

"What's her ability?" He asked, going over the entire encounter, looking for hints and clues, but couldn't find anything.

"Telekinetic," he replied. "Didn't you see the crumbs? She's also has autism, but it wasn't as big as a thing for her growing up, so she got a lot of shit for it. But yeah, she's Enhanced."

Caelum thought about the breadcrumbs and the perfect circle around the woman. He also realized that she had never put her hand in the bag the entire time while feeding the birds. "Oh. . ." He didn't know what to say. Caelum's never met another Enhanced, besides Peter. And, even then, when he thought of an Enhanced, he thought of vigilantes and thugs, not old Hispanic woman and Peter.

This was getting weirder by the minute. "Anyways, come on, we'll be at the Café in a few blocks, let's go," Peter waved him on, bringing him out of his thoughts so they could return to the issue at hand — he inheritance.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
They arrived at the Café about fifteen minutes later. As soon as Caelum opened the door, the stunningly familiar waft of vanilla beans and coffee hit him. When he saw the fiery redheaded woman behind the counter absolutely glowering at him, he suddenly remembered who she was.

As soon as she finished ringing up the customer, a older man with a scarf covering the lower half of his face, she ran over. "Where the hell have you been!?" She screamed, going pink in the face and quickly gaining colour. "D'you know how goddamn worried we've been!? Don't just stand around acting dumb, speak up!"

"I—"

"I swear to God if you don't give me a straight answer I'll throw you through that window right now! Tell me what's going on! Why did the police call us to tell us you were in custody, what the _hell_ have you been doing?!"

"We—"

"And how dare you—how _dare_ you drag Peter into this!? You told us you were going job searching! _Boy_! Job searching my _ass_! I'll tear your tail out so bad you won't be able to sit down for damn _week_! If you don't start speaking up, then Lord help me!"

"Mrs. Sarah—"

" _Dorri_!" She turned to yell behind her. "Dorri get in here before I beat this boy!"

"What boy?" Dorri called from the back. Then, the door opened and she came, all dark skin, thick bodied, and sweating brow, with her hair tied back. But, as soon as she caught his eye, there was a danger in her face.

"Oh _hell_ no!" She snapped and Sarah moved right over so she could come through. "I _know_ ya ain't bout'ta to roll up in 'ere wit' ya scrawny ass after th' _police_ called us! Didn't give us to goddamn _explanation_! Boy, if ya don't tell us where th' _hell_ you've been!"

Caelum watched them with wide eyes, his heart hammering. He struggled to his words, and it nearly cost him the argument. "Speak up! Right now! Don't make me tear ya ass up!"

"I apologize," he began, and he saw their eyes narrowed almost simultaneously. "I lied about looking for a job in order to go to the police station in Hell's Kitchen where the authorities were keeping Principal Davis. I went to confront him on the location of my brothers, and he gave it up, and ended up giving himself a concussion in the process—"

"A _concussion_!?" Sarah repeated, shocked. Dorri looked ready to whip her belt out, and Caelum suddenly got a clear vision of his mother, bending him over her knee and wearing his ass out. That was one of the first and last beatings he got, because he realized the nothing was worth getting in that much trouble for. Lying and punishments were easier to do and take if you just agreed with the other parties and kept your mouth shut.

"Yes ma'am. He was harming himself, but he gave the location of my brothers. However, since I was in the room at the time, despite never touching him, I was suspected of assault, and thus was subjected to questioning and investigation. I was released later, and I went to look for my brothers since the police weren't doing anything."

They were quiet for a few beats. Finally, Dorri said, "Did ya find ya brothers?"

"Yes. But Pollux is in a very severe condition. I am planning on visiting them as soon as I collected the information from you about the person with my mother's inheritance."

They watched him, and Caelum stood straight. Finally Dorri blew out a long sigh, shaking her head. "As long as th' boys are alive, then." Then, she stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Caelum was stock still at first, but easily responded. Soon, Sarah and Peter joined in, and Sarah rubbed at her face.

"I'll be right back. I wrote the information down somewhere," she turned to the man with the scarf at his lower face. He was watching them intently, and didn't take his eyes off of Caelum. Caelum frowned, getting a sudden feeling of unease, but ignored it. It was still really early, this guy was probably just grouchy or something.

Dorri stayed and gave him a small glare, "You'd better come straight here after ya done." She warned, still very pissed off.

"Yes, ma'am," Caelum replied, and she nodded, rubbing her forehead.

"You boys eat yet? Why don't you head upstairs and make some breakfast?"

"We did," Caelum said before Peter could speak up. He didn't want to waste time sitting down and eating ― his brothers were in the hospital. "Thank you, though." She gave him a look, but decided to leave it. A minute later, Sarah came back from behind the counter, waving a sheet of paper with a business card clipped to it.

"Here you go," Sarah said, and glanced at Peter, who was unusually quiet the entire time. "Shouldn't you be in school, Petey?" She asked curiously.

Peter snapped out of his quiet gaze and looked at the woman. "Oh! I―uh. . .!" He rubbed the back of his head. Sarah and Dorri caught on immediately, and Peter noticed. "I talked with our Acting Principal, and he said that he would pardon me for a few days. He thinks I was involved with Cael and Principal Davis, so. . ." He gave a silent shrug, leaving the rest in the air.

"So, ya lied?" Dorri summed up, disapprovingly.

" _No_!" He exclaimed. Someone came through the door, the bell overhead ringing with their entrance. "He _assumed_ and I just didn't correct him. I'm making it all up next week, he said he'd work it out with my teachers."

"Okay. . ." Sarah said, going to the register. "You boys hurry up, now. I want you back here before it gets dark, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," Caelum said, and tucked the paper in his jacket pocket, tugging Peter's hand away. "I'll try to call around noon, alright?" They nodded, satisfied and going back to work. Caelum hurryingly shuffled out the door, Peter in close tow. "You didn't tell me all that about the school," he said as soon as they were at the corner.

"Sorry, I forgot," Peter shrugged. "I also forgot to tell you, our new Principal ― Mr. Morita ― he told me to tell you that you should come up to the school soon. I think they want to make sure you don't sue them, or something? He said to mention that you were, uh, eligible for a scholarship ― completely free. He said to call the school, and they would sort it out."

Caelum's stomach turned at the mention of a scholarship, even if it was free. "I. . . I don't think I can even. . ." He didn't want to finish his sentence. He remembered the first time Principal Davis made him get on his knees, taking his belt off and forcing him to―

"Hey, Cael," Peter took his hand, and Caelum shuddered, looking up at the clouds, the tall buildings, the cars honking as they went down the street. God, he was so fucking stupid. Principal Davis was in a _coma_ ― why was he even still thinking about this? Why was he still being a dumbass?

"I apologize," He said, continuing to walk. He took the paper out of his back pocket, trying to keep his breathing under control, despite the feeling of his throat closing up tight, and tears welling in his eyes. "Uhm. . . we–we're going to, uh, 31st North and. . ." He rubbed at his eyes. Peter took his shoulders and stepped off the sidewalk, pulling him into a small shop, maybe a CVS, he didn't see. He took his hand and lead him to the bathrooms in the back of the store. It was a single. Peter closed the door behind them, locking it behind him.

Caelum moved, sitting on the toilet, trying to breathe easier. His hands were shaking and sobs were trying to climb out of his throat. He felt so fucking stupid, crying like this. He never cried, he was way better than this. But, when he closed his eyes, he could see Principal Davis standing over him, pushing his head down, forcing his mouth wide, as Caelum choked, gasping and trembling underneath him.

"It's okay," Peter said softly, hugging his shoulders. Caelum was sobbing loudly, god it was so stupid. "It's okay. . . I know. . . let it out. . ."

Snot ran down his nose and his face scrunched up in disgust. He wanted to get a sponge and a bucket of bleach and just scrub his mind clean of the disgusting memories of him and Principal Davis. He vividly remembered when he was in the apartment with him. He sobbed the entire time, and Principal Davis got upset, beating him, forcing him to be quiet. Everything was so sore and he felt so fucking disgusting. It made him sick to even think about it. The smell of him, the _taste_.

"He's not here, Cael. He's not here anymore," Peter promised. Caelum just nodded, turning on the toilet to vomit out the boiled eggs he had that morning. A part of him was glad he didn't eat anything at Sarah and Dorri's, he would've been a lot sicker than he felt.

Peter rubbed his back, and Caelum gave a shaky breath. "I'm sorry for even mentioning it," Peter said softly. "I'm so sorry, I should've. . . I didn't mean to―"

"Don't. . . don't worry about it," Caelum promised, rubbing at his face. "It was my fault, I, ah, just need to get over myself."

"No, you don't!" Peter said immediately, and Caelum looked up at him. His brown eyes were fierce and angry. "What happened wasn't your fault! You getting upset by it is completely normal! I hate Davis for making you even feel like this! Why would he. . . it's not fair!" Now, Peter was crying. Caelum gave a small laugh. Peter crying over him, he didn't even go through a hint of what Caelum went through, and yet he was still tearing up.

Caelum stood and wrapped his arms around Peter. He chuckled and accepted it. "This is stupid. You should be the one upset, not me."

"I think it's adorable," Caelum laughed, and Peter rolled his eyes, wiping his face. "Let's get out of here." He went to go blow his nose for a moment before going for the door. Peter followed, but picked up a few items and going to the counter before they could leave. Caelum rose and eyebrow as Peter quickly paid and then handed it to Caelum. A few Nature Valley bars and a small bottle of mouthwash.

Caelum scoffed at the bottle, narrowing his eyes at Peter, who simply shrugged. "I'm not kissing you if you taste like vomit." Caelum rolled his eyes, but twisted the bottle top anyway. They exited the store as he gurgled the mint-flavoured mouthwash. Peter grabbed the paper and business card out of his back pocket, glancing over it. There were a few teardrops smearing the lettering, but not too much that they couldn't read it.

"We turn here," Peter said, after a minute, putting the paper away and point to the crosswalk. Caelum nodded and spit out the mouthwash he was gurgling.

"Is that better?" He asked Peter, and breathed in his face. Peter coughed exaggeratedly, waving a hand in his face.

"You're so gross," he complained and Caelum laughed, grinning. They crossed the street when it was clear, dodging a few slow cars as they went. They walked for a few more blocks, Caelum munching on his new breakfast as they talked. Eventually, they made it to a large office building. Caelum opened the door, and smiled at a secretary. She was black with short, bobbish hair and slightly pinkened lips. She had very high cheekbones and a pretty smile.

"Hello there," She said. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Not exactly," Caelum said, and took out the business card. "Mr. Russell Jackson contacted my. . . guardians recently about my mother's inheritance." The woman nodded and typed quickly in a computer in front of her.

"Mr. Jackson, yes. Your name, please?"

"Algol Forest," Caelum replied, and she nodded.

"Okay! He is on floor 8, room 183A." She quickly jotted something down and then handed a small sheet of paper to Caelum along with two visitors cards. "The elevator's just over there." She gave him a smile and Caelum began to walk quickly, Peter following close behind him.

"That was easy," he commented as he entered the elevator. "Now what are you going to do?"

Caelum waited for the doors to close and did a general scan for any kind of cameras as he pressed the 8 button. "Convince this man to give me twenty grand."

"Seriously?" Caelum nodded. "How are you going to do that? Are. . . are you going to use. . .?"

"No," Caelum said. "Not if I don't have to. But, maybe I can. . . uh, _persuade_ him." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Caelum straightened up, almost wishing he had something more professional to wear as he walked down the hall with purpose in each step. He followed the secretary's instructions, finding room 183A and knocking on the door.

"Yes, come in," a voice said from inside. Caelum stepped inside, Peter close behind him. At a dark wood desk, was a taller gentlemen. He had dark hair, combed back and a neatly trimmed beard. A pair of thick rimmed glasses hung off his face, and he wore a freshly pressed suit. He rose an eyebrow at Caelum, who gave a gentle smile.

"Mr. Jackson?"

"Yes, who are you?" He replied, but not unkindly. He moved to sit at his desk, Caelum standing in front of it.

"Algol Caelum Forest. You contacted my guardians recently about my mother's inheritance." He frowned for a minute, but then nodded.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Forest," Mr. Jackson nodded firmly. "I remember — I'm sorry for your loss, please take a seat."

"Thank you," Caelum moved to sit down. Peter did the same, looking a bit uncomfortable in the process.

"Now, I did mention to your guardians that since you are a minor, the assets would have to be put into a trust account until you are of age to collect it."

"Yes, I am aware sir," Caelum replied politely. "But, there is a bit of a issue."

"And that is?"

Caelum drew in a breath and started to explain. "Sir, my brothers are currently in the intensive care unit at a hospital in Hell's Kitchen. They were kidnapped and administered drugs against their will. I. . . we don't have the money to pay for their hospital bills." The man rose an eyebrow, seeing where this was going. Caelum  continued anyway, "I know, that I am a minor, and I know I won't be able to access the money for personal gain. But, I needed to talk to you because. . . my brothers might die, and I don't have the money to pay for their hospital bills. My father is in jail, I cannot take care of them by myself, not without some kind of financial assistance. I was hoping that I could come to you to get access to some of that money, just so I can help my brothers. Is that―Is that possible, sir?"

Mr. Jackson watched him for a long time. Then, he inhaled, leaning back in his seat, and folding his hands over his face. "Mr. Forest," He began slowly. "I understand the situation, and I can see how this can be tricky for you. According to the law, you are still a minor, and well before the age of 18. Now, if you were _emancipated_ from your parents, legally, then it would be no problem for you to be able to access the money. However, since this isn't the case there aren't many other options for you."

"Is it possible for me to give the money to my father?" Caelum asked, and Peter turned to him, confused.

"Well. . . since your father is a direct relative to you and a trustee with access to the account, he should already have access to it. However, since he is currently in jail, it would be particularly difficult for you to complete this."

Caelum bit the inside of his lip, thinking. "But, Mr. Forest," Mr. Jackson continued, "There _is_ something called charity money, where hospitals _do_ have to treat your brothers for free if you don't have the income for them. This might very well be the possibility for them."

"No, sir," Caelum replied, "I would still need access to the money otherwise. But, you did mention my father, however. He would have access to the trust account?"

"Yes, but as you said, he is incarcerated at the moment."

"If my father were out of jail, would he be able to use the money?" The man blinked, a bit surprised.

"Yes. . . but the bond money cannot be accessed by you."

"I understand sir," Caelum stood. "I am sorry for wasting your time."

"It wasn't a waste at all. I am glad you came down to see me, I understand the loss of a family member can be very traumatic and stress-inducing, especially someone like your mother." Caelum nodded softly, but he had something else on his mind. Before he and Peter left, Caelum stopped in front of the door.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Forest?"

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but I have one last question, if you don't mind."

"Yes, ask away."

"My Aunt. Loyalty Winnifred Forest-Brent, is she one of the trustees?" Mr. Jackson frowned for a moment, and then he looked down, turning on his computer.

"I'm. . . not quite sure. Give me a moment. . ." He said, and began to type.

"Sir, how would the bank know that I am a minor?" He asked the man curiously.

"Well, they have the same system as us," He replied simply. "Your profile is all here. Ah! Here it is." He scanned the page, and frowned. "Nope, sorry. I don't see your Aunt as one of the trustees." He looked up, and suddenly Caelum was possessing him.

Caelum went back to the computer, quickly scrolled through the profile. It had his age, date of birth, social security number, height, weight, and a image to recognize him as. Caelum went to the age and clicked on it, but it was uneditable. He frowned for a minute and began to send the website's information to his private email. He used the man's address, which as already linked to his account on the computer. After it was finished sending, and he didn't pull up any red flags, he deleted the recently sent email, and then cleared his trash-folder and his spam for good measure.

He quickly closed out of the page and clicked back on his information before looking back in his eyes and blinking.

"Oh, okay then, sir. Thank you anyway." Caelum gave a small nod, "You have a good day."

"Yes. . . you too," Mr. Jackson said, a little disoriented, but didn't look suspicious at all. After all, he was across the room, and there would be no evidence of him even touching his computer.

Caelum and Peter quickly left. Peter tried to talk to him, ask him exactly what he just did, but Caelum kept shushing him. It wasn't until they were safely out of the building did he decide to talk again.

"Come on, we're going to library."

" _Why_?" Peter asked, confused.

"Because, I'm going to do something really illegal, and I don't want to get caught for it," he replied honestly."

"What are you going to do?" Peter asked, confused. Caelum turned and gave him a small, unsure smile.

"I'm going to change my age so I can access my trust fund money and bail my father out of jail."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who agreed to answer the survey! I'll have it posted and ready when the last chapter of this story goes out.


	35. - 35 -

 

** chapter thirty-five: **

 

 

Peter was not happy ― Caelum, could tell. “You can't just. . .!” He trailed off and Caelum scoffed.

 

 

“Just _what_? Get _my_ money out of the bank?” He was possessing a teenage girl. She was Asian with short bobbish hair. She had chewing gum in her mouth when Caelum possessed her, which he immediately spat out ― he _hates_ chewing gum.

 

 

“Cael, you _aren't_ eighteen,” Peter tried to reason, but Caelum wasn't hearing it. He continued to type quickly on the computer. Peter was watching out for him, in case anyone saw him trying to get into a bank's information server.

 

 

“You really shouldn't be next to me like this,” Caelum ignored his comment, continuing to work. “The whole point of doing this is that if someone looks through the camera and sees us, they see someone else editing vital information, and not me.”

 

 

“I'm not going to leave you alone while you get yourself sent to prison!” He snapped the last word and Caelum gave a nervous smile.

 

 

“I'm almost done, alright? Give me a minute.” He had finally found his pulic records profile. He changed the age and date of birth from 2001 to 1998, effectively making himself over the age to take the money he needed out.

 

 

Just in time too, his neck was beginning to prickle. He began to wipe the computer of any evidence and stood up, grinning. “See, easy-peasy. Now, where did you put my body?”

 

 

Peter was not amused, he frowned crossing his arms. “I don't think we should start out relationship off with money laundering and theft. Where did you learn that, anyway?”

 

 

“Don't _admit_ to it!” He whispered, annoyed someone might overhear. “Mr. Goldson taught me. Well, he taught me a _bit_ of basics, and a elective in computer programming helped. That doesn’t matter, where did you put me?”

 

 

“Over there,” he pointed to the couch in the corner of the room.

 

 

It was _empty_.

 

 

“ _Peter_?” Caelum stared at the couch in shock and horror. His heart skipped a beat, and he began to panic from wondered where he was and what someone might be doing with his uninhabited body. “Peter, _please_ tell me you're kidding.”

 

 

“I am.” Caelum turned around and Peter was smiling, his face red from trying to contain his laughter.

 

 

He hit Peter’s arm, making the laughter bubble out. Peter half-remembered that they were in a library and tried ― _unsuccessfully_ ― to contain it. “Don't _fucking_ do that!” He snapped, shaking with anger. The face of the girl he was inhabiting lit with blotchy reds. He felt like his cheeks were being held under a open flame. He didn't realize how _weird_ blushing was.

 

 

Peter grinned cheekily and he walked him to his body, which was sitting on a couch, dazedly staring at a book. Caelum looked in his eyes and blinked. He stretched and put the book away as Peter helped the girl he was possessing. “Are you okay?” He asked her, as she stumbled a bit on her feet, confused.

 

 

“Yes. . . I. . . Yeah, I'm sorry, what just happened?” She replied in a soft and dainty voice, and Peter gave her a kind smile.

 

 

“You fell, you looked a bit pale,” Peter lied, but continued with that smile ― smiling at _her_. “Do you want me to call someone? Are you feeling okay?” Her eyes lit up and her cheeks dusted with a blush.

 

 

“I. . . I. . .―” She stammered, irritatingly unable to find her voice. Caelum frowned, narrowing his eyes, immediately annoyed.

 

 

“Parker — let's go,” he said quickly, turning to leave. Peter noticed and checked one last time to make sure she was okay before moving to catch up with him. Caelum was quiet, quickly striding towards the doors and out of the building.

 

 

Peter, who was beside him, grabbed his hand before they could continue walking. “Hey?” Peter said and Caelum rose an eyebrow.

 

 

“ _Yes_?”

 

 

Peter didn't say anything for a minute, just studying his slightly bitter expression, then he laughed. “You _were_ jealous.”

 

 

His face immediately fell and he went on the defensive. “Pardon me?”

 

 

“The girl ― you got upset when I helped her,” Peter let out a laugh and began to walk.

 

 

“I–I was _not_ jealous!” He sputtered, trying to keep up. “I just didn't want to waste time talking to some girl, that's all.”

 

 

“Mm-hmm. . .” Peter replied, continuing to walk. About five minutes passed when Peter spoke again. “Your eyes scrunched up.”

 

 

“ _Excuse me_?”

 

 

“When you're upset. You get wrinkles at the end of them.”

 

 

“Maybe I was just born that way because I was not jealous, Parker.”

 

 

Peter rose an eyebrow, “So you wouldn't mind if I kissed that girl?”

 

 

“I–I. . . _what_!?” Caelum barely kept the anger from his tone.

 

 

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “The girl, you wouldn't care if I kissed her, if you weren't jealous.”

 

 

Caelum practically glared holes in the person walking in front of them, but then he sighed and gave Peter a nice, charming smile. “If you wished to kiss her, Parker, then why _should_ I care?” Peter blinked, not expecting this reaction. “ _Although_ ,” Caelum continued. “Doing so without her consent or fair warning could be considered sexual harassment or assault. Also, she was a complete stranger so it definitely would not look good on your end. But, by all means, kiss her, if you want to.”

 

 

Caelum continued to walk, dropping the charming act and crossing his arms, anger increasing in every step. “Wait, _Cael_!” Peter had lagged behind, and Caelum didn't stop for him. “ _Cael_!” Peter grabbed his arm, and Caelum immediately tried to pull away.

 

 

**_“You pulled yourself away ― don’t_ ** **ever** _**do that again!”** _

 

 

Caelum stayed where he was, eyes wide in shock as he stared at his arm being held by Peter. Peter noticed immediately and let go. Caelum moved it to his chest, cradling the limb as if it had been burned.

 

 

“Cael, I. . . I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Peter was obviously shocked, but Caelum was far past the girl in the library now.

 

 

The mind controller. He was _still_ following his orders. When would that wear off ― _was_ it going to wear off? If someone grabbed him, he wouldn't be able to fight back. If someone tried to kill him, he wouldn't be able to do anything.

 

 

It broke though, for Sarah and Dorri? Maybe because in his head, he forgot about home and they reminded him. But, pulling away, a geniune reflex after being unknowingly grabbed? He couldn't fix that. He didn't forget it. He couldn't _relearn_ it.

 

 

“Cael? You're scaring me, please, talk to me? Are you having another attack? Do we—Do we need to go somewhere secluded?”

 

 

“I. . . _no_ ,” Caelum replied after a moment's hesitation. “I'm fine. I just. . . I was thinking.”

 

 

“Oh. . .” Then, Peter frowned, “Don't _do_ that! You scared me!”

 

 

Caelum rose an eyebrow and scoffed, “Like how you hid my body?”

 

 

“I. . . _that_. . .!”

 

 

“Mm-hmm?” Caelum rolled his eyes and continued to walk, Peter fell in line beside him.

 

 

“I thought something serious happened,” he whined. “You scared me!”

 

 

Caelum shook his head, smiling a little. “Come on — we're nearly there.”

 

 

**°** **· ° · ° · °**

 

 

The bank was _huge_. Caelum didn't even know his mother had banked here when he first stepped in. The floor was marble and there were tall pillars in between. Due to it being around late-noonish, the bank wasn’t that populated, but there were still people standing around, at least from what he could see. An older woman in a sitting area sat on the cellphone, a few tellers behind the counters, leaving a couple spots open, a man sitting in the sitting section, looking down at his phone as well. He also saw a few bankers talkings with customers behind thinly veiled curtains.

 

 

“Hello, and welcome to _Easy Pass Bank_!” A very nice looking gentleman. He was young, probably early twenties, and he had nice, crispy blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. “How may I help you today?”

 

 

Caelum smiled and approached the counter, “Hello sir. I am here about my mother’s inheritance. According to my. . . _attorney_ , he said that her spendings were dealt here and that approximately twenty grand in assests were left in my name.”

 

 

The man rose an eyebrow, “I’m sorry for your loss, can I get your name, sir?”

 

 

“Algol Caelum Forest. My mother’s name was Apolline Daphine Forest.”

 

 

The man hummed as he typed, “That’s a beautiful name,” he commented. Caelum was a bit taken aback, but smiled.

 

 

“She prided herself in it ― and she certainly lived up to it as well.” The man nodded, and cleared his throat.

 

 

“Yes, I see here here. Do you have any form of identification?” Caelum swallowed and took out his wallet, handing him his school ID, and then looked him in the eyes. He quickly took it from his dazed from and promptly dropped it on his side of the glass.

 

 

“Whoops, my bad,” he said, rather loudly so the man’s associates would notice the mishap. He took a clean look at it and then handed it back to him. “Okay, this lines up.” He looked back in his eyes and blinked.

 

 

Caelum quickly grabbed the I.D. before the man could realize what had happened. “Is that all sir? I’m sorry, I personally don’t bank with you, but―”

 

 

‘I apologize,” the man interrupted, rather confused. “But you didn’t show me your I.D., sir.”

 

 

Caelum gave him a confused look, “I’m sorry, I just gave you my I.D., you dropped it on the ground, remember?”

 

 

“He’s right, Tanner,” a woman beside him noted. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

 

The man was quiet for a moment, before nodding slightly, “I _do_ feel a little dizzy. I’m sorry about that, anyways, you said that you don’t bank with us? Do you have the routing number to your bank so we can transfer the funds there?”

 

 

“Yes, sir," Caelum replied and pulled out his wallet. He had a small sheet of notebook paper with a sequence of numbers written on it. He handed to the bank teller and stood straight, smiling.

 

 

Tanner took it, looking over the numbers and typing quickly. “Okay. Now, I just need you to sign a few papers in order to have the transfer of funds on file.”

 

 

Caelum rose an eyebrow as Tanner moved, getting the papers in order, "If you don't mind my asking, why do I need to do that? Just, out of curiousity.”

 

 

"Whenever significant funds change accounts, we're supposed to keep track of it. Just to have it on file,” he handed him the papers. “You can sit over there, if you want.”

 

 

"Okay. . . thank you, sir," Caelum smiled and Tanner returned it.

 

 

"My pleasure! Thank you for banking with us today."

 

 

Caelum and Peter moved sit down at the loveseat in the sitting area. “Is that it?" Peter asked, and Caelum shushed him immediately. They weren't done until his father was out of jail.

 

 

Caelum grabbed a pen and began to sign whenever he saw a line. He pulled out the paper in his wallet, writing down his social information where it was due as well. It didn't take him long to finish, and he got up to hand the papers to Tanner when he was done, gave the man polite smile and hurried out.

 

 

When they were at least a few blocks away, Caelum let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “Did it work? Do you have it now?" Peter asked and Caelum gave him a shaky smile.

 

 

"Yeah, but I don't want to think about that. We need to go to the bonds office, it should be a few blocks away.”

 

 

“I thought we were going to visit your brothers?" Peter asked and he nodded.

 

 

"We are. I just need to make sure the money gets to my dad first. I have to get him out.” Peter grabbed his arm, and Caelum inhaled.

 

 

" ** _You pulled yourself away ― don't_** **ever** ** _do that again!"_**

 

 

“Do you really want your dad out of jail?” Peter asked, not letting go. Caelum ignored it. The grip wasn't hard or mean. It was a reminder, small skin on skin contact. “Cael, remember what he did to you? I don't want you ending up like that again.”

 

 

"I _have_ to,” Caelum said honestly. "I can't watch the boys myself _and_ keep them out of the system. I can talk to my dad, see if he'll see reason. But, I _can't_ do alone.”

 

 

"If I asked May―!"

 

 

“To adopt _three more_ kids?”

 

 

Peter looked exasperated, struggling to find a better solution, a healthier solution. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Cael."

 

 

“I have to do what's best for them, Peter,” Caelum said gently, and sighed. "Look, the bonds office a few streets from the hospital. We can stop there, get everything situated, and then go to my brothers, alright?”

 

 

  
Peter didn't look happy, “At least. . .   _promise me_ you won't stay with him,” Peter said, and Caelum frowned. "I don't want you to get hurt again. I don't want to have to take you to the hospital again.”

 

 

"Okay, I won't,” Caelum lied, "Come on, we're going to miss the 2:25 train if we don't hurry."

 

 

**° · ° · ° · °**

 

 

The bonds guy Caelum met with was a lot less shadier than Caelum assumed he would be. He explained that all he had to was draw the money out of the account and bring it to the jail where his father was being held. Since Caelum lied about being a minor to him, he said that the people there would handle it. Or, he could pay fee and have him go through everything, which would involve more lying and Caelum wasn't very keen on that. If he kept it up, it might have serious consequences.

 

 

Yet, he wanted to see his brothers today, and if he bailed his father out himself, he probably wouldn't make it in time, despite it being close by. So, Caelum conceded, sitting down with the man and filling out several pages of paperwork and spending a couple hundred of his mother's inheritance to help hire the man.

 

 

Meanwhile, Peter stood beside, both supportive and yet disagreeing with his decision. Peter didn't know his dad like he did, and Caelum knew he could get back into his good graces, he knew his dad would understand.

 

 

And, Caelum also knew that he would be a fool to leave his brothers alone with him. He hoped Peter would understand that.

 

 

When he finally finished, they practically ran to the hospital. It was a few streets down, and the streets were a bit busy. That didn't keep them from pushing past people, running to get to the hospital. Caelum wanted to see his brothers, he wanted to make sure they were still alive and well.

 

 

Caelum moved to the front desk, where a young woman in a pink-blue uniform sat, typing quickly. “Hello, ma'am,” Caelum greeted, a bit out of breath. "I'm here for my brothers, Pollux and Castor Forest. I―they were brought in yesterday. I'm their brother.”

 

 

"Yes, Mr. . . Forest," the woman nodded. “Do you have some kind of identification?"

 

 

“I have a school I.D.”

 

 

"That'll do,” She replied and Caelum showed her his wallet. "You need to sign in, first," she slid him a sheet of paper on a clipboard with a pen.

 

 

Caelum took it, quickly filling it out. Peter frowned, looking around, scratching his arm. Caelum noticed, “Is everything alright?"

 

 

“I. . . I dunno," Peter said softly. “I'm getting a weird feeling. . .”

 

 

Caelum rose an eyebrow, “What do you mean?" He asked.

 

 

Peter thought for a second, but shook his head, “It’s. . . It's nothing, I'll explain it later.”

 

 

"Alright,” Caelum stood, clicking the pen off and bringing the papers to the woman. “It’s family visits only, so your friend will have to stay down here.”

 

 

Caelum blinked, looking over at Peter. "But―!"

 

 

“It's okay," Peter assured. “I'll head back to the apartment. May is going to come home soon and she'll probably want me in school. You're welcome to come back to the apartment when you're done.”

 

 

“I know," Caelum said, "Thank you, Parker.” He turned to leave, wanting to see his brothers as soon as possible.

 

 

“ _W_ _ai_ _t_!" Peter said, and grabbing his hand. Caelum turned around just as Peter kissed him. He was stunned for a moment before giving a small laugh and kissing him back. After a minute, he pulled away, his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

 

 

“Hurry up and go," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter laughed, grinning from ear to ear.

 

 

“Call me before you leave, alright?" Caelum gave a small nod, trying to get his thoughts in order, and Peter laughed, leaving him alone.

 

 

The nurse at the table chuckled shaking her head. Caelum rubbed his neck, watching Peter leave. “Here's your sticker," she said, sliding a printed sticker labeled visitor to him. “Your brothers are in room 218, floor three."

 

 

“Thank you," he smiled, and she nodded, waving a hand as he left for the elevator.

 

 

**° · ° · ° · °**

 

 

Caelum wanted to run down the hall, but he didn't want to be kicked out, so he kept a brisk walk. Nobody paid him any mind, he had a visitors tag on and the hospital was a bit busy. Doctors and nurses ran past as he counted off the doors. 210. . . 214. . . 216. . . 218!

 

 

He pushed through, luckily the door was unlocked. His heart was pounding and a smile on his face. “Castor? Pollux?!" He called, not quite yelling, but also being a little bit unable to contain his excitement and concern.

 

 

The light was on and the two boys were sleeping. Completely unaware of the man sitting beside their bed.

 

 

Caelum stared at him, his face draining in horror. The man who controlled him, was sitting in the chair, legs crossed and smiling at him. “Algol! _Mate_! Lovely to see you came, sit down." Caelum moved, sitting beside the man, his hands pressed in his lap, staring at his knees.

 

 

“H. . . He–Hello, sir,” Caelum said slowly.

 

 

"I thought you had more manners than to leave someone by themselves like that, Algol." He shook his head, clicking hugs tongue, "You disappointed me.”

 

 

"I. . . I am sorry to hear that, sir," he swallowed. “How did you–you find my brothers?”

 

 

"Ah, wasn't that hard,” he shrugged. "Asked a police officer which hospital two recently kidnapped boys were placed. Happy to give me the location.”

 

 

"Are you going to hurt them, sir?” Caelum asked, a bit frantic. "They're–They’re the only family I have left. Please, they're just―”

 

 

“Bite your tongue." Caelum teeth clamped down on his tongue and he gasped, blood spurting and his mouth stinging. The man stood, brushing off himself and giving him a side-eye. “ _Manners_ , Algol. Surely you must know about it. Go on, apologize for speaking out of turn.”

 

 

"I. . . I apologize, sir," he said blood dripping from his tongue, welling in his mouth and leaving a terrible taste.

 

 

“What should I make you do. . .?” The man murmured, tapping him chin as he paced in front of him. "I could make you kill your brothers? Eat them _alive_? Take the skinny one off of his life support, poor bastard.”

 

 

Caelum's stomach weighed down with terror, "Please, sir. . . _please_ don't hurt them, I'll do _anything_."

 

 

“Oh, I'm sure you would, you were shagging your Principal,” he scoffed. "Would you do that, _Algol Caelum Forest_? Answer me honestly, would you do that in front of your brothers?”

 

 

"If you didn't hurt them, yes sir.” The man whooped out a laugh, and Caelum's stomach twisted.

 

 

" _Wow_! Is that loyalty or _insanity_?" He asked, but didn't give Caelum the chance to answer. “Or is it that you like shagging men, eh?”

 

 

"I. . . _no_. . ." He stammered. He didn't think he would ever be able to have sex after what he went through with Principal Davis.

 

 

“But you're definitely, how do you Americans say it? Batting at the other cone?”

 

 

"I'm sorry?”

 

 

He rolled his eyes, "Don't be _daft_. You're gay ― I just bloody saw you snogging your boyfriend downstairs. It was actually a bit heartwarming if you looked past the fact that you _also_ kissed your Principal cock with that mouth.” Caelum flinched, and he laughed. "It's true, isn't it?"

 

 

“. . . Yes, sir," he said, practically spitting out the words.

 

 

"Mm, doesn't that make you mad?" The man asked. "He ruined your life. He made you _nothing_ ― merely a pet compared to who you were before. Aren't you upset by that? Tell me the truth.”

 

 

"I hate him, sir,” Caelum replied honestly and the man smiled.

 

 

“Good! Let's go kill him!"

 

 

Caelum flinched, " _What_?”

 

 

"Bite your tongue.” Caelum bit his tongue again and winced, hissing in pain. “What did I just say about speaking out of turn!?"

 

 

His anger sent shivers down Caelum's spine, seeing his father in his eyes, hearing Principal Davis in his voice. “I–I apologize, sir,” Caelum said softly, trying to move away from him.

 

 

The man watched him closely, and smiled. “Are you _scared_ , Algol?" He asked gently, moving towards him and Caelum swallowed.

 

 

“Yes, sir." He was leaning in front of him. He put a hand on his thigh in order to steady himself. Caelum practically jumped, making him stumble and fall out of the chair. “ _No_! Please! _Don't_ , no!" He cried, his heart racing as he stared wide-eyed at the man.

 

 

The man glared at him, “Sit down. Stay still," he ordered and Caelum moved back, staying still but breathing heavily. "You just said you would do anything for your brothers. Were you lying, Algol?”

 

 

"No, sir.”

 

 

"Get on your knees.” Caelum moved, kneeling in front of the man, his mouth going dry and he blinked, forcing the tears to stay out of his eyes. “If I said I would leave you an your brothers alone if you sucked me off right now, would you do it?”

 

 

"Yes, sir.”

 

 

"Bloody _hell_ ,” the man kneed him in the face and Caelum let out a cry of pain, holding his nose. “How the _hell_ are you so. . .!?”

 

 

"I–I’m sorry?” He asked, holding his bleeding nose. He was still trying to understand that the man wasn't going to make him do what Principal Davis made him do.

 

 

“God, that so _invigorating_." He growled, “Alright, get up.” Caelum stood, anxiety radiating off him, but it was nothing compared to the excited and dangerous look in the British man's eyes and the murderous grin etched into his face. "Let's go find your Principal, eh?”

 


	36. - 36 -

**chapter thirty-six:**

  
Caelum didn't know that Principal Davis was being kept in the same hospital as his brothers, but when he realized that the was, a sick feeling fell in his gut. Of course, the man was unconscious and only living off of the machines of his life support, breathing and living for him.

Caelum stared at the man, his head was bandaged with thick white gauze and a bit of red peeking through. His fingers were raw, probably from him trying to claw himself off to stop himself from doing what Caelum ordered. He wore the generic white medical gown, his fat belly rising and falling periodically. His eyes were closed and there was a respirator on his face.

This was the man that tortured him, hurt him in ways he could never forget, ruined the life of his family and probably others.

This was the man that killed his mother.

“Go ahead, kill him." The British man in the corner prompted.

Caelum stared at the man, blinking several times, unable to find his words for a moment, bit he realized that his body hadn't moved. Although the man had given an order, he didn't _mean_ it, like he did with the rest. He was letting him decide.

Did he _want_ to kill him?

It wouldn't be hard, Caelum knew. He saw the outlet where the man’s respirator was hooked up to. All he would have to do is unplug it, and then Principal Davis would be out of his life forever.

Yet, Caelum _couldn't_ kill him.

Every urge in his body begged to unplug the man, and stab him in the chest over and over and over again.

Yet, Caelum _couldn't_ kill him.

Every muscle wanted him to suffer, like he suffered. Truly give him a taste of his own medicine.

Yet, Caelum _couldn't_ kill him.

He hated people like this ― the _vigilantes_ , the _heroes_. He hated the ones who took justice into their own incapable hands. That was exactly why Caelum hated this power of his. It was useful, yes, but he _hated_ it. Superheroes _aren't_ heroes, they're _cowards_. They hide behind masks, fight the evil of the night unknown that they are the ones who cause it. Ultron, Loki, all of those evils, all of the hate and terror. They're all caused _by_ heroes. Men pretending to be _gods_ because they believe it is their right now that they have power to change lives and shape the future for all of humanity.

Caelum wouldn't kill this man, because at the end of the day, he was a _man_. He was a disgusting, venomous, ugly, terrible, hideous man, yes, but a man nonetheless. He didn't deserve death because Caelum deciding his death would be denying his mother's justice, his brother's justice, _his_ justice.

This horrendous man wouldn't die, not in his sleep, but a slow, _painful_ death, rotting and forgotten in a prison cell, hopefully getting the same treatment he gave him. If Caelum killed now, it would cause more issues for him in the future, than solve them.

“No, sir."

“Pardon me?"

“No, sir. I won't kill him."

“ _What_? What about your brothers?"

“This man deserves justice,” Caelum explained. "Not death.”

"I'm giving you a _choice_ ,” the man snapped, coming to his side. "I'm _not_ controlling you, and you would rather your brothers _die_ than this man, who―”

“I do not want my brothers to die," Caelum said sternly. "But my mother didn't die so that I can play hero, sir."

"Oh, _bloody_ ―!” The man threw his hands in the air, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Are you _serious_?”

"I won't kill him, sir.”

"Go jump out that window.” Caelum moved, going to the window and trying to pry it open. It was deadbolted down, but he kept clawing at it, trying to get it opened and fulfill the order. His skin on his finger split and we're cut by the edge, and it burned as blood seeped from them.

The man came beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I could leave you here," he whispered in his ear, his grip on his shoulder getting tighter and tighter. “You stay here, trying to jump out this window forever. Eventually, when your precious Principal wakes up, he'll see you, maybe bend you over and fuck you up the arse while you try to kill yourself. Would you like that, Algol Caelum Forest?”

"N–No–No, si–sir,” he groaned, his bleeding fingers still scrapping at the edges of the window.

“Will you kill him?"

“No, sir." The man yanked him down and kicked him. He hit the ground, his foot aimed straight for his side.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?" He hissed, driving his shoe into his chest, and Caelum gasped. He needed to jump out that window.

By _any_ means necessary.

He kicked the man in the back of his leg, making him fall down on his back. Caelum scrambled to his feet, grabbing a television remote from beside him. His finger accidentally pressed the power button, turning it on. He threw the remote at the man as he was struggling to get up.

It hit him in the eye and he roared in pain, grabbing his face. Caelum hurried, taking his shirt off and jumping on the man, balling up the sweaty t-shirt and shoving it in his mouth. Then, he stepped on the man’s neck, making him gag as he tried to take the smelly shirt out.

Caelum looked around, spotting the gauze on the table. He leapt over, snatching it off the table, and coming back. “ _Stop_!" The man snapped, anger and frustration defining him.

Caelum stayed still, moving the gauze behind him so he didn't see. He glared at him, “You _insolent_ little. . .!” He struggled to his feet, glowering at him. "I'll _kill_ you for that!"

“I'm sorry, sir," Caelum said, trying to stay calm. “But, I am supposed to jump out the window.” He looked him in the eye, and blinked.

He was in the man's body. His eye throbbed and was half closed, but he tried not to think about it. He grabbed the remote off the ground and threw it at the window with his full strength. The window broke immediately.

Caelum grabbed the shirt off the ground, shoving it in his mouth. He gagged, it definitely tasted as bad as he thought it would, especially after walking around outside all day with Peter.

He moved to the window while the television droned on about an explosion in Vienna, and a high speed chase. Caelum climbed out the window, his legs and arms scraping against the sides, causing blood to leak out.

Caelum stood on the outside of the window, gripping the sides of the pane for dear life, and jumped. He jumped outside the window, and when he finished, he bent down, looked himself in the eye, and blinked.

Caelum stumbled back when he was in his own body, and the man in front of him didn't. He made muffled noises behind his shirt, and Caelum chuckled. “Please leave me and my brothers alone, sir," Caelum said, and the man bent down trying to look at him. He tried to take the shirt out of his mouth but if he let go of the sill, it compromised his balance.

His eyes looked like _murder_ , and Caelum moved forward, pushing the man’s shoes a little.

He screamed, glaring at him and Caelum stayed quiet, “Leave my brothers alone, sir," he said, inching his feet closer and closer to the edge as he spoke. “I might not kill Principal Davis but I have _no_ qualms killing you, sir. It would look like a suicide, after all.” The man was holding on by just the soles of his feet, sweat dripping down his face.

Caelum could do it. It would be so easy. To push this man just an inch more and see him fall to his death. This man, who used him, this man who made him do things he didn't want to do. Who's to say he isn't the only one? Who's to say this man isn't exactly like Principal Davis? Caelum could kill him, he should kill him. And he would have no issue to do so. Just a few more inches, a few more effortless inches, and he would be gone. Another parasite snuffed from this world.

But would his mother be happy if he did that? Would she be proud of him? Would his brothers still look up to him knowing he had killed a man?

Would Peter love him?

The man was quiet and Caelum was too, debating for a long time. They listened to the news channel talk about Captain America, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon being fugitives of the law. Caelum was sure there was more behind that story than he had time for.

“I'm going to go say goodbye to my brothers, sir," Caelum said simply, dismissing the murderous urges and stepped back. "And then, I'm going home. Maybe it would be better for the both of us to forget this ever happened?” With that, Caelum turned and left.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum was jittery the entire way back to his brothers room. He stopped a nurse as hr made his way to them. “Hi, sorry my brother puked on my shirt,” he lied. “Do you have anything I could use? I'll pay for it if I have to.”

"We have the patient's uniform, if you would like one of those?” She suggested and he nodded.

"That'll be great, thank you," he smiled and the woman laughed, leading him away.

She took him to a storage room and gave him a thin, white cotton shirt. She also gave him a bandage for his bleeding nose, after he lied and said he fell trying to get away. He thanked her and slipped it on, making his way back to his brother’s room, 218.

The door was open and he pushed it gently, stepping in. Neither boy was awake, but he didn't mind. He moved the chair and sat down beside them quietly.

He sat there for a while, unable to say a word and for one, he didn't want to. The quiet was enough, and he hoped they would understand. When they both got better, he was going to take them out for a treat, or hug them for hours, never letting then out of his sight again.

He saw someone walk past the door, hearing a few nurses fussing behind then. He looked up, it was the man, staring at him for several seconds. The nurse behind him was trying to get him to sit down with him so he could fix his arms and legs.

Caelum gave the man a polite nod and continued to sit beside his brothers. Thankfully, the man didn't come into the room. He heard the nurse fussing behind him all the way down the hall.

He breathed out sigh. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum came home earlier than he planned. He wanted to stay with his brothers, but the nurses needed to a few check ups and he didn't want to be caught up in the afternoon subway rush.

He rode all the way back to Queens, exhausted at how long of a day it had been. He was ready to pass out in Peter's bed, with the boy beside him, messing with his hair.

The thought made him smile, and he hurried back to Peter's apartment. A very fancy car was parked on  the side, amd Caelum rose an eyebrow as he passed it. He managed to slip in behind an unseeming tenant. They didn't seem to care and he took the stairs two at a time, going up the steps. It was later in the afternoon, Peter must have came back a long time before he had, if he didn't waste time playing hero.

Caelum was surprised to see the door unlocked and he gently pushed it open. “Hello?" He called, looking around. The house wasn't empty, Peter's shoes were at the front door. Maybe he was in his room?

He took his shoes off and knocked at the door. “Not right now, May!" Peter called from inside the room.  

Caelum rose an eyebrow, opening the door. “Not May, Parker. Try again," he said, and stared at the man sitting on his bed.

 _Tony Stark_ was looking back at him, he looked a bit roughed up, with a black eye and a stubbly chin. Yet, the man was the splitting image of the billboards and the Wikipedia page pictures.

“Hello there,” Stark said, raising an eyebrow. “Who are you?"

"I would ask you the same, but you make it too easy for everyone to know your name, sir,” Caelum replied and the man rose an eyebrow.

Caelum turned around, shutting the door, and thinking for a minute. “Is this about Spider-Man?" He said and Tony turned to Peter.

" _Cael_ ," Peter moaned and Caelum rose an eyebrow.

“What? Do you expect me _not_ to ask? Tony Stark is sitting on your bed, Parker.” Caelum scratched his head, sighing. This was why he hated superheroes. If you put yourself out there, you'll get called into the fight faster than you can say vigilante.

"Sorry, how do you know about Spider-Man?” Tony asked, intrigued. "I assume our webbed friend didn't go screaming his identity to whoever would hear it.”

"Yeah, like _you_ did?” Caelum snapped back, crossing his arms.

Peter stood, "Excuse us a moment, Mr. Stark," Peter laughed nervously, taking Caelum's arm and leading him to the corner of the small bedroom.

“What did I _say_!?" Caelum snapped, “Put on the suit and suddenly you have Tony Stark sitting on your bed!"

“Cael, this could be a good thing," Peter insisted. “I can actually help people, a lot of people!”

"Peter, this is _way_ different than helping old ladies cross the street,” he narrowed his eyes. "This is the _Avengers_! This is _Tony freaking Stark_!"

“Yeah, and he came to _me_ ," Peter insisted. “Besides, he says I'll only be gone for a day at most, maybe a weekend. May thinks it's an internship.”

Caelum pursed his lips, his birthday was this weekend. That was a silly thought, Peter could be putting himself in danger. "And if you get hurt?"

“He won't," Tony cut in and Caelum shot him a glare.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know being in a tin can gave you the power to tell the future,” he quipped, annoyed by the presence of the billionaire. This man had the _audacity_ to ask a teenager for help ― and _Peter_ of all people!

" _Caelum_!” Peter grabbed his hand, glaring at him. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It's been a long day ― it's been a long week.

“I apologize," he said to both Peter and the billionaire on the Ikea bed. “Fine, _whatever_. Go with him, but if you come back missing even a _hair_ ―!”

“I get it," Peter smiled. “Thanks, Cael."

“Don't kill yourself," Caelum remarked bluntly, looking between him and the man on his bed. “I mean it."

“I'm sure," Tony replied easily. “You could come too. If it bothers you that much, kid."

Caelum frowned, "I can't. My brothers are in the hospital and I have some. . . family stuff to take care of.” Still, the thought tempted him. Just him and Peter out for the weekend? He exhaled, shaking the thought away and addressing Peter. “I'm going to head over to Sarah and Dorri's. Call when you get back, alright?”

“I will,” Peter promised. "Thanks Cael.”

"For _what_? Not snitching?" He scoffed. “What do you take me for?”

"The best boyfriend ever.” Caelum froze at the word, and immediately felt his cheeks warm, he turned around, embarrassed that Peter admitted it ― and in front of Tony _freaking_ Stark.

“We'll talk when you get back," Caelum said and quickly left the room.


	37. - 37 -

**chapter thirty-seven:**

  
Caelum had no issue making it back to Sarah and Dorri's. He said hello and hugged both of them, helped them finish for the last couple hours of the night, then clean and pack up.

The entire time, Caelum couldn't stop thinking of Peter's comment. He didn't know if it was just flippant or sarcastic, or serious. But. . . the fact that he said it, that it came from Peter's lips. . . it kept him distracted all night long.

He wanted to call Peter back, sit him down, and talk about the use of the word ― boyfriends ― its implications and if they should name it public. If Caelum's father knew he had a boyfriend, if he was spending his time on something foolish and fleeting like love, he would kill Peter and then him. He already proved himself capable of it, Caelum could sometimes still feel the hands tightening around his throat. His useless, petty gagging for air, and his father's look of disappointment and disgust.

When Caelum thought about his plans for tomorrow and how he was going to bail his father out of jail, a part of him was scared. This man had nearly killed him ― twice ― and Caelum was going to willingly move back in with him? He was going to trust the lives of his brothers with his father? The thought scared him, and he didn't like the finality of what it brought. If he got his father out of jail, he probably won't be spending a lot of time with Peter, if any time at all.

This boy he had finally been able to have the chance to love and hold and kiss, would be blown away like dust. Caelum didn't know if he could let Peter go so easily. It was simpler, when Peter didn't know he loved him and Caelum inherently hated Peter because of it. Then, he could shut the boy off, like a light switch.

But now, Peter was more intricately involved in his life. Peter stayed by his side, despite his best and worst attempts to get him to leave.  He helped him, listened to him.

Peter had kissed him before Caelum had worked up the courage to even _think_ to do it.

Caelum sighed, finishing wiping down the last time table. It had been a long day, his limbs ached and all he wanted to do was go lie down.

He said goodnight to Sarah and Dorri and made his way to the guest room. After getting undressed, he fell into his bed, shifting around a bit before closing his eyes.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
_Caelum was laying down flat, completely unable to move any limbs. He tried to look around him, confused. He didn't feel anything on his arms, he wasn't locked down, why couldn't he move?_

_Someone was coming up to his side, and Caelum looked over. Principal Davis was grinning down at him, a sneer on his lips and lust in his eyes. Caelum's heart dropped, and he opened his mouth to cry out, to beg, but nothing left his lips._

_Principal Davis crawled on the bed, bringing his face down to Caelum's side. Shivers ran a marathon down his spine and he flinched, as the man touched him, breathing in his scent, kissing and licking his skin. He moved his hands up his shirt and Caelum tried to scream, tears coming to his eyes._

_Principal Davis pulled his shirt off, and worked on his pants, which were loose on his body. They slipped off his unmoving legs easily and Caelum let out a silent sob._

_The man turned him over, stomach to the bed under him. He tasted and sucked on his neck while he undid his own clothes. Finally, he tossed the pants away, and whispered in Caelum's ear._

_“Mr. Forest. . . you should've killed me when you had the chance.”_

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum woke up, stumbling out of the bed, trying to get as far away, as fast as he could. His heart was beating madly, and he slipped as he tried to run. Hitting the ground with the back of his head. He groaned, feeling very nauseous, as he tried to right himself.

He felt sick, feeling the man’s coarse, sweaty hands work their way around his body. His lips on his skin, the words in his ears. It felt like ants crawling all over your body and being unable to get rid of them and it was itchy and loud and annoying.

Caelum covered his ears, trying to breathe properly, trying to get rid of his words bouncing in his head. It was like television static and you couldn't tune to a working channel and it kept getting louder and louder.

The door opened and light peaked through. A body stood in the doorway. Caelum was too panicked and tired realize who it was. Suddenly, he was back in that apartment and Principal Davis was yelling at him and forcing him on his knees and keeping his mouth open wide.

He vomited on the ground, then he gasped, heaving again. The person ran around, bringing him a towel, a trash bin, a blanket. They rubbed his back in circles and Caelum shivered, unable to focus and breathe.

“Breathe, hun, jus’ breathe, a'ight?” He gagged, heaving in the bin again. He leaned against the bed, his eyes rolling into his head as he breathed.

Someone talked in front of him, “Check his head, see if he's got any knots."

Gently, he head was moved down, as the woman inspected the back of it. He leaned against her arm, breathing softly and in short pants. “Jus’ a bump, but he'll be fine."

The woman sighed, “Good. Let's get him back in bed. C'mon, Caelum,” the woman urged ― _Sarah_?

He shakily stood to his feet, and clumsily made his way back on the mattress. He breathed softly for a few seconds. The woman, Dorri, moved the covers back over him, giving his shoulder a gentle pat before leaving the room.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum left earlier than usual. He grabbed an apple from the kitchen and managed to duck out before Sarah or Dorri caught him and tried to shove more food down his throat or talk about the events of last night.

He made his way to the bonds office, the train ride was loud with the rest of the passengers aboard at the early morning run, but lonely without Peter by his side. Caelum decided to forget about Peter, at least for today,

At least, he tried until he was walked down the street and saw a television store tuned to the national news station. It was a helicopter showing the Falcon along with a few other superheroes he wasn't acquainted with getting into a car and being sent away.

His stomach fell immediately and he stared at it. Where was _Peter_?

  
He closed his eyes, rubbing his face and tried to swallow the mounting anxiety building up in his gut. Iron Man shows up at Peter's place and suddenly superheroes are getting arrested?! Caelum knew he would spiral into madness.

Today, Caelum would visit his brothers again. He had to make sure that that man didn't come back after he left. He had to make sure that he didn't try to do anything to his brothers. The bondsman said that tomorrow, he would be able to bail his father out of jail. He had the entire day to prepare for it. 

 

He breathed, closing his eyes. It had been nearly six months since Caelum last saw his dad. The thought of even being alone with him made him want to vomit, but he had to, for his brothers. He couldn't take care of them. It was the only way, he had to make sure his brothers could live happily. 

 

They always came first,

  
no matter what.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The bondsman was rather kind as he explained what happened the next day. He sorted everything out with the money he gave him and his father was scheduled to leave in about an hour or so. Caelum thanked him, mentally reviewed the funds he had remaining.

His mother's inheritance was twenty grand, more or less. He spent a three hundred on the bondsman work, eighteen grand on his father's bail, which made him nearly faint when he thought about it. He would leave the rest of the money for his brothers, which was a couple hundred less than two thousand.

Caelum rubbed his emerging headache as he thought about all this on his way to the jail. If he kept working throughout the year, he would be able to amount enough money to pay the boy's school. His father would refuse him working, despite them obviously needing the money, especially after the funeral.

Caelum knew if he stayed with Sarah and Dorri, he wouldn't have to worry about that. He wouldn't have to worry about going back to school, or his father's anger, or money, or anything that bothered him. Yet, if he left his brothers with his father, he knew his brothers would end up like he did. He might be able to take his father's blows, but they couldn't ― especially not after coming out of the hospital.

Besides, they already had the lease on the apartment, and they had a few more days before rent was due ― their landlord was being generous due to their predicament. He didn't take the furniture out yet, he hadn't had the chance, but what he could do is use the money he had left to pay the rent and bills while his father searched for a job.

If his dad found a job well enough for him to go back to school, he would quit his job at the Deli, if he still had a job there after everything going on. If he didn't, Caelum would continue to work. He and his father could talk their dispute over his job, hopefully he could see reason or they could come to a compromise.

Caelum came to the front of the jail, _Manhattan Detention Complex_ , and sighed again before going in. Two men sat a desk behind a thick glass and stone foundation. A security guard stood near the side, arms crossed, but eyes watching him.

Caelum approached the desk, “I'm here to pick up an inmate ― Justice Williams Forest.” The attendant nodded, not looking up from his laptop.

“Relationships to inmate?" The man asked, his voice as bland as his slicked back hair.

“My father. Do you need an I.D.?”

"Yes.” Caelum pulled out his wallet, sliding over his Midtown High I.D. to the man. He picked it up glancing at it and the computer. “Your father will be coming shortly.”

Caelum nodded, getting the jitters out of his body. "Thank you, sir," Caelum nodded and moved to sit down in one of the plastic seats. He rubbed his forehead, giving a small sigh, his head absolutely pounding.

Everytime, he heard the door open, he jumped, but it wasn't his father. He kept bouncing his knee, looking around sharply when he heard the rattling of metal or the patter of footsteps. Contrary to the attendants words, his father wasn't out shortly. Caelum was getting impatient and his anxiety was mounting higher and higher. He shifted the change of clothes in his hands, rehearsing what he would say in his head. He would explain the situation with his brothers and his plans for the future, both financially and educationally.

About forty-five minutes passed before his father came. Caelum somehow could recognize the sound of his footsteps, the air of his presence, the sound of his breathing. He sat straighter, turning as his father appeared behind the corner. He was wearing the jail uniform, a grey shirt and baggy pants, and had chains on his wrists and feet. He snarled at the men around him and Caelum took a second to swallow and stand.

His dad narrowed his eyes, “ _Algol_."

“Father," Caelum replied. He was suddenly keenly aware that the last time he saw him, the man nearly strangled him to death. He could still feel the fingers on his throat squeezing tighter and tighter and he couldn't _fucking_ breathe and―

“ _Algol_!" The man snapped and he stood at attention, jolted from his memory.

“My apologies," he said immediately. Then, he remembered the clothes dangling from his hands and thrusted it at him. The guard beside him intercepted it, sifting through the clothes for any kind of suspicious items. It was just jeans and a tee-shirt. He picked them up from Walmart on his way there.

Finally, the guard handed it to his father, and he grunted, annoyed. “Where are your brothers?" He asked as the guard moved, taking his chains off his hands, then his legs.

“The hospital, sir," Caelum replied and his head shot up. “There was an incident, a lot has happened since―”

"Don't try those excuses on me!" His father snapped, “What the _hell_ happened!?”

"I. . ." He focused on breathing for a minute. "I–I. . . my Principal, Principal Davis kidnapped them. He. . . he had people, uh, injecting them with. . . various substances and he–he starved them. They're under close watch, but the doctors said they would be okay.”

His father stared at him, both disgust and shock on his face. Caelum felt the urge to continue, to explain his actions. “I'm trying my best to help, I'm getting another job, and I―"

“What the _fuck_ did I say about that!?" His father snapped, his chains completely free.

“I–I–I know, sir, I―” God, he was _not_ prepared for this at all.

His father snarled at him, “ _We're_ going talk," he snarled and Caelum nodded, looking away, his heart pounding. His father took the clothes and left, the guard following close behind.

Caelum stared at the hallway, his heart pounding and his hands shaking. He tried to move and sit down, but he couldn't get himself under control. The only thought going through his head was, ' _I don't want to die. He's going to kill me and I don't want to die_.’

His dad came back before could get his bearings straight. He stood again Justice narrowed his eyes.

“Come on,” he snapped and Caelum quickly followed behind. He hailed a taxi and climbed into the car. “Where are you brothers?"

“In the local hospital, sir,” Caelum replied. "Just down the street.”

The taxi driver nodded and began to go. Caelum was silent the enter way. His father scowled, looking out the window, muttering to himself. Caelum didn't want to speak at all. He didn't want to say a word. He just wanted to go back to Peter, to hold him again, and be far from his father.

“Explain to me why you haven't quit your job," his dad said and he swallowed.

"I. . . after the funeral, I had to cover the expenses, and I didn't–I didn't have money, so. . . I couldn't quit. And, the boys, they were still at school, and they needed―”

“Stop giving me _excuses_!" His father snapped. “You quit because it was too hard, wasn't it? You only had the half scholarship, you weren't good enough to get in for free. _Look at you_!” He curled his lip in disgust. “This wouldn't have happened if you stayed at that school.”

"Ye. . . yes, sir." In a way, he was right. If he never left Midtown, Principal Davis would never find a reason to kill his mother and kidnap his brothers. If he stayed, he would be finishing up this month. But, if he stayed he wouldn't have Peter with him, loving him as much as he did him.

The car stopped. They got out. Caelum made his way to the front desk. The same woman from yesterday was sitting there. She was smiling, “Hello, how may I help you?"

“I'm. . . I'm here to see my brothers, Castor and Pollux Forest. I'm their brother, I was here yesterday. This is my dad, he's here to see them too.”

The woman nodded, “Your dad needs an I.D., and to fill out a few forms.” He gave a nod and she reached down pulling them out and clipping it to a clipboard. She handed it to the man and then turned to address him again. “I'm gonna print your sticker and you two should be all set. What was your name again?”

"Algol Caelum Forest,” he replied, and then spelt it for her.

"You _were_ here yesterday. I remember your name, it's interesting ― I've never heard that one before," she commented, and clicked enter. "Sorry our printers are being slow today. Anyways, how’s your boyfriend?”

Caelum went as still as a statue and his father looked up. "I–I–I do–don’t. . . I–I’m. . . I–I’m _not_. . .” He couldn't breathe. The woman was staring back, between him and his father, realizing her mistake.

“Oh. . . _Oh_ , I'm _sorry_ ,” she said softly and his father surged forward.

“What the _fuck_ is she talking about?!" He snapped and Caelum took a step back, eying his hands warily. They were balled tight, ready to strike.

"It's nothing ― don't worry about it. It–It’s nothing."

“Sir, please calm down―” the woman said, and he glared at her, pointing a finger.

“You ― shut the _fuck_ up!” He snapped and the woman fell silent. He looked back at him. "You're a fucking _faggot_?" It was a question, but Caelum didn't say anything so he got his answer. His face contorted into disgust and horror. Caelum's stomach twisted in on itself and every instinct told him to run and run _far_.

“Let's go,” Caelum begged, "Le–Let's just go see the boys, and talk about this later―” His father glared at him, raising a hand and opening his mouth to say something else. Caelum flinched, but glanced around him, “ _Dad_!" He gave his father a look, and looked around at the people staring at him and the security officers coming up near the side.

His father glanced around and narrowed his eyes. He moved, grabbing his arm, “We're going to _talk_ when we get home."

“Yes sir," Caelum replied, his heart still pounding, but at least the situation has descalated. The nurse gave them their visitors stickers, and gave him a look, “Room 218," she said softly, and his dad began to walk. She handed him his sticker, flipping it upside down to show a note scribbled on the back.

_'im so sorry will you be alright?’_

He gave a small nod, and smiled to her before following his father to the elevator.

Before the doors closed, however a security guard stepped in, staying near the side, eyeing his father closely. Caelum swallowed as the doors closed, feeling the tension in the air.

“Where are you you going?" His father asked gruffly.

“Wherever you are,” the man replied smoothly. He had tanned skin and dark hair with a few freckles on his well muscled face. He was very handsome, but at the current circumstances, Caelum didn't think about it. He looked at him, and Caelum kept his eyes down, “How are you doing, kid?"

"I am well, sir,” Caelum replied, pressing the button for them to go.

"How has school been?" He asked, and Caelum could feel his father glaring at him.

“I'm, ah, not in school," Caelum said.

“Because you're a lazy _fag_ ," his father hissed and Caelum flinched.

“That's enough, sir," the security guard narrowed his eyes. He looked at Caelum who was staring at the floor, wishing the older elevator went up faster. In retrospect, he should've taken the stairs. “How old are you, kid?"

He opened his mouth to say eighteen, but then realized that his father was there. However, he wasn't allowed to check his brothers in if he _wasn't_ eighteen. If he said eighteen, his father would know he was blatantly lying and he didn't need that pinned to his back as well. “Fifteen," he finally answered. "I'll be sixteen tomorrow.”

" _Oh_!” He smiled, “Happy birthday, then." Finally, the doors opened and Caelum couldn't run enough.

“Thank you, sir," he replied quickly before quickly walking to the hospital room. His father was close behind and Caelum could tell he was practically rolling in anger. He hoped he could put it off until after they left, or else his dad might end up back in jail.

Finally, he made it to the door and opened it. His dad came in behind him, and shut the door. Castor and Pollux were still asleep, but a bit more colour came back to their faces. He hoped that they would wake up soon.

He hoped they would be alright.

His father was quiet. Caelum didn't say anything, in fear of setting him off. It took a few minutes for him to speak. “Tell me what happened," He spoke and Caelum swallowed. How much was appropriate? How much would he understand?

If he told the truth, the _whole_ truth, his father would be completely enraged. If he told him what happened with just his brothers, he would want to know why and how. If he told him everything and left out the part about Principal Davis, he would know he was withholding information.

The best way to go would be to tell him everything and risk the beating afterwards. If he didn't, he would beat him for lying to him, and then for allowing it to happen.

He cleared his throat, “Principal Davis," he began carefully. “He kidnapped them in order to get to me.” His father stared at him and he continued. He explained everything with his Principal, leaving out the details but giving a general overview. He explained what happened when he left, after his father got arrested. He explained his jobs, leaving out the part with Peter, and how he reunited with his mother after a few months. Then, the funeral happened, he was taken and so were his brothers. He was. . . forced to do things with Principal Davis he would rather not do, or relive for that matter. Then, Davis was arrested, he found his brothers a few days later, after they had been subjected to injecting drugs in their systems and had been in the hospital since.

His father did not meet his eyes. He stared at his unconcious sons, his face blank as the entire situation set in. Finally, he narrowed his eyes. “So, what I'm hearing is. . . because _you_ fucked around with your _Principal_ , your mother is dead, I was sent to jail, and your brothers are druggies?”

Caelum didn't have any words, "I. . . I _wasn't_ ―I didn't _want_ to―!"

“But you didn't stop him either," he snapped. “ _You_ fucked around. _You_ did this. Your _mother_ ― my _wife_ ― is dead because of _your_ ―” he shoved a finger in his chest. “ _Faggot ass!_ "

“I _couldn't_ stop him!" Caelum said, “He would've kicked me out of the school, and _you_ wanted me in that school―”

“So you _sucked_ his _dick_!?" His father was screaming now. "Don't you _dare_ try to blame your gay _shit_ on me! I _never_ told you to do that! That was all _you_!”

" _You_ told me to stay at the school,” Caelum insisted, "And by the time it got worse, I _couldn't_ leave!"

“You're making _excuses_ ― you _always_ make excuses!" He grabbed his shirt, yanking him close. “You're a filthy, dirty, _disgusting_ excuse of a son! And you have the _audacity_ to come back here and try to _explain_ how your brothers nearly _died_ because _you_! Why _Apolline_ is dead because _you_!!” He punched him in the gut and Caelum fell immediately.

He grabbed his stomach, vomit riding in throat. He didn't remember his father being this strong. Now that he saw him, he noticed the muscles in his shirt and the significant amount of weight lost.

“ _I'm sorry_!" He gasped, and tried to get his bearings straight. " _I'm sorry!”_

“Who’re you fucking now, huh?" He snapped, kicking him in the side. He gasped, trembling. “Who's _cock_ are you licking?!”

"I'm. . . I'm not. . .―!"

“Is it that, what's his name? The _Parker_ kid you were cozying up with at her _funeral_?”

He froze, " _No_ , it's _not_ him. It's _not_ ―!"

“ _Liar_!" He grabbed him by the neck, bringing him up. Caelum began to panic clawing at his throat terror twisting his stomach and _he didn't want to die he didn't want to die―_ “You’re _disgusting_. I should fucking _kill_ you.”

He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. "Please! _Pl_ _–Please_!"

Justice snarled, and let go. He fell, gasping for air, rubbing his neck. “Get your shit together. We're _leaving_."


	38. - 38 -

**chapter thirty-eight:**

  
Caelum was terrified. He immediately began to regret bringing his father back. He could feel the man glaring at him as they walked. Caelum tried to show no emotion, but he couldn't help the restless tapping of his fingers, or his incessant shaking hands.

There wasn't much he could do. When his brothers got out, they would all go back to the apartment. He couldn't leave them alone ― although a small part of him certainly wanted to. There was no reasoning with his father. There was no stopping him.

So he kept walking. He walked right out of the hospital, feeling all the eyes of the staff on him. He walked to the train station, and walked to his seat beside his father's. He walked out, when it was his stop. His father halted him before they went to the apartment.

“I have things to do," he explained. “I'll be back later tonight. You'd better be here." Caelum had no reply.

He went to the apartment, using the key he had found in his things at Sarah and Dorri's. He opened the door and went to their room. Unsurprisingly, Peter had not come back yet. Caelum wished he was there ― he was so _scared_.

He knew he had options. He could leave, go to Peter's apartment. If May was there, she wouldn't mind letting him sit down and talk for awhile. But, he knew she would call the police if she thought his father was a threat and his father could not go to jail again.

He could go to Sarah and Dorri's place. They wouldn't ask questions and he could get some work time in. However, his father wanted him here and although he didn't really care much for that, if he caught him on the streets, he'd be in worse trouble. That, and Caelum didn't know if he knew he was staying with them. If he did, he didn't want to drag Sarah and Dorri into this. It wasn't their business and again, they would call the police.

Staying just seemed like the best option. While his father might be inconsolable on talking, he still had to try. And, if things got tough, his room had a lock on it and was near the fire escape. He'd be fine, for the most part.

Caelum spent hours sitting around until the sun finally fell and he heard the buzzer ring. He didn't have to think about who was there. He pressed the unlock button and gave his father access. A few minutes later, the door opened and he was there.

Caelum sat at the kitchen table, closest to the hall where his bedroom was. Beside him, the ghost and her blue bear watched in anticipation, the only witnesses to the event.

His father looked angry and. . . Caelum frowned, realizing what was wrong. He was drunk ― not all the way, but Caelum could tell he was a bit tipsy, but not enough to be incognizant. “Come here."

“I think it would be safer if we sat and talked,” Caelum said, still ready to leap out of his seat.

“Don't talk your smartass _shit_ to me!" He growled. He stomped over and Caelum immediately jumped out of his chair, knowing exactly where this was going.

He ran to his room and shut the door, locking it behind him. He breathed for a minute, moving to sit down on his bed. His father would eventually tire himself out, probably go pass out on the couch. When he was sober and more reasonable, they could discuss plans for the future.

All of a sudden, the entire wall shuddered and Caelum heard a loud crack. He moved back as his father pushed the door, opening it completely. He _kicked down_ the door.

Caelum could've _shit_ himself in that instant.

“ _Get up_!" His father snapped, but Caelum didn't move because he was too busy staring at his fallen door.

His father growled, stomping over and yanking his arm. Caelum let out a cry of alarm and his father immediately hit him across the head. “Shut the fuck up! You don't get to fucking _talk_!"

He slammed his body into the side of his door, his back scraping against the edge. He hissed, but quickly closed his mouth, swallowing a cry. His father bent over him, slamming his fist into his face before he could move his hands to stop him. Caelum saw stars, his eye exploding in pain.

He tried to curl away, his shoulders shaking, but his father held him steady and kept hitting him over and over again. Blood filled his mouth and his nose crunched painfully against his fist. Caelum couldn't see at all, he laid limp, his face throbbing with an unimaginable pain.

His father, still not quite done yet, grabbed his leg, and dragged him over. His arm sliced open painfully against the split wood, and he inhaled slightly, then coughed out blood. “I'm gonna kill you," his father growled darkly. “I'm gonna _fucking kill_ you. I won't have motherfucking _fags_ in my house.”

He brought him in the kitchen and practically dropped him on the floor. Caelum tried to get to his feet, maybe he could― maybe he could go and run and get away from him and. . .

“You're going to pay," he hissed, turning the stove eye it ticked for a few beats before erupting with a flame.

Caelum immediately tried to get up and run. His limbs felt flimsy and his arm was bleeding so bad. He used the Ghost's chair as leverage, as if she would be able to grab his hand and give him strength. He got to his feet and limped to the door.

His father, much more able-bodied, was faster. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. He fell, his head hitting the ground, but his father wasn't done. He grabbed his shoulder raising him to the stove with the lit eye.

Caelum began to scream, “ _No_!! No! _Please_!Dad! No!! _No_!!" His father ignored his cries and pushed his face into the flames.

Caelum wailed. He has never felt this kind of pain in his life. _Everything_ burned, his face was on _fire_. Caelum closed his eyes, but his eye wasn't protected from the flame. He tried to struggle, tried to get away, but his legs felt like _jelly_ , and he couldn't fight against his father's tight grip. His tears sizzled in the flames, as if taunting him, and his skin charred and blistered.

His father pushed him down harder, and the burning metal seared into his face. He opened his mouth, letting out a ear-shattering scream, his body moving frantically. He pushed his hands down, trying to pry his burning skin off. His father kicked him in the legs, making him lose balance. He fell, face going farther into the burning flames.

His father raised him up, and Caelum slumped, barely able to breathe, his entire body shaking, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. The cool air lapped at his skin, giving him a slight reprieve from his torture. His father pushed his head upwards, inspecting his face, before gripping him again and pushing him back in.

Caelum cried out again, he didn't want to do it again. It hurt so bad, he wanted it's to stop. "No! No! Nn—!" He blubbered before he went back to screaming, the flames returning.

He heard footsteps, and someone calling his name. His father dropped him. He hit his head on the metal stove, falling to the ground and holding his still burning face. Caelum sobbing and his hands shaking over his mutilated cheek. He couldn't breathe, it hurt _so bad_.

He vaguely saw his father standing over him, a kitchen knife in his hand, sneering down at him. "That's your faggot boyfriend innit?" He growled. Caelum let out another loud sob, he was going to _die_. He didn't _want_ to die. He was going to _die_ and it was going to _hurt_ ― he _hurt_ so _bad_ it _hurt_ so _bad_ he _couldn't breathe_ ―

The door opened, Caelum saw a person in the doorway, staring at the scene before them. His father growled, “Get out of here!"

" _Cael_?” It was Peter. Peter couldn't be here. His father was going to kill him.

“ _Ge_ _. . . Get. . . Get out_. . .” Caelum wheezed, trying to stand but it hurt so bad, he didn't to move. Peter stepped over anyway, and his father stormed to him, ready to hurt Peter, ready to kill him too.

Peter stood his ground, moving closer to Caelum, but too far to actually help. His father swiped the knife at Peter expertly dodged it. Caelum's heart pounded and his face burned. He struggled to his feet, his hands shaking and blood dripping from his burned face.

Peter got a glimpse of him and immediately froze, his eyes widened. His father was able to cut him, just along the collarbone. Peter cried out, and stumbled back. Justice reached over, yanking him by his arm and twisting it behind him, holding the knife to his throat.

This jolted him to action. He crawled to his knees, his body trembling. He swallowed the thick knot in his throat. “N–No! _Please_! Don't–Don't hurt him!" Caelum cried and his father sneered.

"This your little faggot boyfriend too? I'd be doing the world a favour!” He pressed the knife closer. Caelum quickly blinks away the pain, he had to save Peter. He couldn't let Peter die.

He looked at his father, and suddenly he was in his body. He immediately let go and stumbled back, dropping the knife in his sweaty, before nervous, hands.

He felt something, it was dark and sinister. He shivered as he started into space. _He needed to kill tbe boy_ _. He kiled his wife! He was a faggot_ _, he was disgusting_ _, horrible he was the reason everything had gone to complete shit_ _!_ _!_

 

He stumbled into the table, letting out a moan. What was going on? He wasn't doing this, he wasn't his thoughts! _He was going to die! He had to kill the boy! They both, the faggot and the cracker had to—_

"Cael? Cael, stay with me!" P

  
eter was fast, grabbing Caelum's body despite his bleeding arm, getting him out and away.  “Oh God, your _face_ ," Peter said softly, trying not to stare but it was too prominent for him not to. He looked like literal burnt toast, his eyes were half lidded.

Caelum was so exhausted, his body ― his father's body ― was shaking. Caelum braced himself against the far wall. Peter noticed, “Just hold on Cael, let me get to the door. _Hold on_.”

Caelum tried his best, but everything was beginning to sway and twist. He lost balance and stumbled into the table.

_Kill them both! Make them bleed for what they did to Apolline! Make them bleed for what they did to him! He made him this way, he should never have taken him to the exibhit hall!_

He felt sick and vomited all over the ground, his arms shaking. This was nearly as bad as the dog.

“ _Now_!" Caelum moved, looking at Peter who was in the doorway, and blinked.

Peter kicked the door closed as Caelum began to feel all the aches and pains in his body again. He wailed and gripped Peter tighter. “ _May_!!" Peter screamed, trying to hurry down the steps and also not fall and break both of their necks. “May! Call the police!!"

Everything was hot and the lights were so bright and his face felt like it was still on fire and he couldn't feel a _damn thing_ it hurt so bad―

“Oh, God!" May cried ― they were downstairs? ― and helped carry Caelum in.

He heard footsteps and turned his head to see his father, glaring devilishly at him. “Put him down!" He screamed. "Bring him back! You motherfucking faggot! Come here, Algol! Now!!" The knife was back, he was going to kill all of them.

He blinked, and it all happened so fast. Caelum slipped from their arms, dropping like a rock, his eyes rolled into his head, as he wheezed. There was a crash and his father was gurgling behind him, he didn't get to see what happened, but he felt a sharp pain in his throat.

“Hurry up! Get him inside!" May was shouting and Caelum groaned, his couldn't feel anything in his bloody arm, his face burned in pain, and he couldn't _breathe_.

“Is he going to be okay?" Peter asked, helping him to the couch. "Is he―?"

“ _Peter_ , call 911!" May's voice felt father away, and Peter let go of his hand. He suddenly gasped, shaking. Tears filled his eyes and he could hear them steaming in the flames. He felt his father pressing his face into the stove.

He blubbered, trying to speak. No, _no_ , he didn't want to die alone. Come back, Peter! Please, he was scared and his dad, was going to kill him. He was _scared_ , he was so _cold_ and he couldn't _breathe_. Peter was the only one who liked him, who _loved_ him, and he was so warm and Caelum was freezing cold and he didn't want to die.

He felt someone take his hand before he heard nothing.

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum woke up slowly, he swallowed hard, looking around, confused. He immediately realized he was in at the hospital. He couldn't see out of his right eye and he brought his hand up to touch it. His face was bandaged and his arm was wrapped up too.

His head was pounding and he looked around. Someone was holding his bandaged arm. He was slow, but he saw Peter leaning over beside him, his head turned away from him. A blanket was draped over his shoulders.

Caelum smiled gently, moving his free hand to touch his messy hair, but his torso did not agree, stinging in pain. He grimaced, hissing, “Ow."

"M’sorry,” Peter murmured, turning his head, his eyes fluttering open, glimpsing at his face for a moment before falling back asleep.

Peter shot out of the chair a minute later, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “ _Cael_!" He cried and then leaned over, wrapped his arms tight around his neck. Caelum winced, but moved his good arm to hug him back.

Then, Peter released him and kissed him. Caelum was surprised, but laughed. Tears hit his cheeks, but they weren't his. Peter was crying.

He pulled away, looking at the boy. Caelum could tell he was trying his best to not start bawling on the spot. “Are you okay?" He asked, confused.

“Am I okay?!” Peter practically screamed. “You nearly _died_! You've been asleep for a _week_! Your dad _burned_ half your face off and you’re asking if _I'm_ okay!?”

"Well, you seem to be more emotionally compromised than me,” Caelum pointed out.

Peter glared at him, “I thought you were going to die!" He snapped. “Your dad chased us with a _kitchen knife_! He was going to kill you! He―!” Peter cut himself off, glaring at the bed, trying to breathe.

Caelum suddenly recalled what had happened, “My dad? Where is he? Is he. . . is he back in jail?!” There would be no way Caelum could get him out this time. He was depending on his Dad's funds. His brother's and his hospital bills would be disgustingly high. He didn't have enough money left to pay for all this.

“Caelum, your dad is dead." Caelum’s head snapped up, staring at the boy, daring him to take it back. “He. . . cut his throat open.”

"What?” Caelum stared, that didn't sound like something he would do. He tried to review the fight in his head, trying to figure out why this happened, what could have caused it. His father would never kill himself, especially with people in the room and within eyesight. His father would never do that unless someone was holding a gun to his head and him.

. . . _Oh_.

Caelum was going to be sick. He killed his father. He cut his throat out. His father was dead. He _ruined_ everything.

“It's okay, it's okay," Peter insisted, taking his hand, squeezing it gently. “It was self-defense. He was going to kill you. It's not your fault."

"I ruined everything,” Caelum said softly. “I _killed_ him. My brothers. . . we won't be able to. . . we can't. . .” He could get the words out. He couldn't speak properly. His brothers would be forced into foster care now. Both his parents were dead. He killed his father. This was all his fault. He ruined his family.

“Cael, talk to me, please," Peter said softly, and Caelum swallowed the knot in his throat.

“I. . . We needed the money from him. My brothers. . . They'll be forced into the system now ― _I'll_ be forced into the system now.”

"No, you won't,” Peter insisted. "I heard Sarah and Dorri talking earlier. They said that they wanted to adopt you, and your brothers.”

"They couldn't," Caelum said, surprised. “They don't have the room, that's not fair to them, it would hurt them so bad.”

"I know,” Peter said and then smiled a little. "That's why May said she'll adopt you, if you wanted." Caelum stared at him, confused and shocked.

" _What_?"

“May said she wouldn't be able to take all three of you guys, our apartment is small, but Sarah and Dorri were willing to, so―”

“ _No_!" Caelum interrupted, staring at Peter. "I can't let you guys do that! I–I’m. . . this is _my_ responsibility. This is my _fault_! I couldn't. . . It's not fair to them and, shit, all the medical bills. . .!”

Peter watched him for a minute, both confused and annoyed. “Cael, we want to help you. You need help, and we're here for you."

“No, you can't. This is my fault, I caused all of this, I―” Caelum rubbed his eye, sniffing. “He was right. I. . . this is my fault. I did this and now. . . my mom is dead and–and my dad. I killed. . .!” His shoulders shook, and he bit his lip, he didn't want to cry in front of Peter. He didn't want Peter see him like this, battered and broken, but he didn't want to tell him go away either.

“You didn't do this. This isn't your fault, Cael.”

"They're both dead because of me! My mom is dead because of me!”

"Caelum," Peter's voice was serious. Caelum looked up from his good eye. “Did you shoot your mother?"

“ _What_?"

“Did you shoot your mother?" He repeated.

"I. . . no―”

"Did you kidnap your brothers?”

"He took them because of―” Peter gave him a glare and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “ _No_. . . "

"Then it _wasn't_ your fault! You _can't_ go back in time, you _can't_ redo what already done. Yeah, what happened sucks ass, but it _happened_. You have to live with it ― _we_ have to live with it. So, stop worrying about that. You nearly _died_ , but you're okay now. It's all going to be okay now.”

Caelum nodded and Peter gave him his sunny smile, which made Caelum smile too. “ _Now_! Your birthday passed and _you_ didn't tell me, so. . .!” Peter scooted off his bed and ran to a chair covered in balloons, flowers and boxes. Peter pulled one out and held it to him. “ _Here_."

“You. . . You didn't have to―"

“Cael, just open the present." He laughed, grabbing the box and undoing the ribbon and lifting the lid.

He frowned, staring down inside the box. “I asked the staff if it was okay if we used the DVD player and they were totally cool with it!”

"Where did you find a box set of Jaws?” Caelum laughed, pulling out the present. Caelum was suddenly keenly aware of the shark necklace on his neck. He never took it off, which caused the cheap silver to go a brown rusted colour.

“I also have something else for you," Peter turned around, grabbing a small box and handing it to him.

Caelum rose an eyebrow, “The DVD set looked expensive, Peter. . .”

"It's okay, this one was actually free.” Caelum unwrapped the present ― rather clumsily with his non-dominant hand. He gasped when he glimpsed what it was.

“Is this―Is this a Stark phone!?” He quickly unwrapped the rest, staring in awe and shock  at it. Then, he remembered Peter’s comment on it being free. “Peter, please don't tell me you stole this."

“I _didn't_!” Peter exclaimed, pouting and crossing his arms.

"Then, how in the world did you―oh. . .!" Caelum completely forgot that Tony _freaking_ Stark was in Peter's bedroom.

“Yep," Peter grinned cheekily.

“Is this from him?"

“Yep."

“I–I can't accept this," he couldn't even look at the phone, it looked so expensive. “I. . . I don't have a data plan. Peter, I don't even have a phone ― you _know_ that.” He never found the need for one, since his parents didn't know he was working, and he usually stayed at places with landlines and people who could afford data plans.

“Don't worry about that, Mr. Stark said he would cover it all, along with you and your brothers' hospital bills.”

Caelum gaped, staring wide-eyed at him. “I. . . I can't. . . he couldn't. . .”

Peter shrugged, “He said he really liked you. Well, his secretary said he said he really liked you ― if you can call Mr. Happy a secretary. I've only seen him drive places. Anyways, he said not to worry about it. It's all paid for.”

Caelum stared at the phone in his hands, unable to speak. “Cael? Is everything alright? Please don't say you can't accept this because I really don't want to see you killing yourself trying to cover all these bills.”

Caelum scoffed, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. “You wouldn't let me, anyway."

“Exactly," Peter grinned his smile of sunshine, and held out his hand. "Now, let me see those movies ― _you're_ on extended stay here so _we're_ binging Jaws.” 


	39. - 39 -

**chapter thirty-nine:**

  
After all the build up to him finally watching Jaws, Caelum thought the movies were. . . _okay_. The characters were silly, but the CGI was good for it's time, and the plot definitely had a few holes that could use improving. It was okay. Granted, numbers two through four didn't exactly improve on the plot much, but he had to give credit to the director with making due with what he had.

Peter loved them, and grinned at the silliness of it all all throughout the movie. Caelum could've spent the afternoon sitting there, watching him, and still be fine.  

Eventually, a nurse came to check on him, and realized that that he wasn't unconscious anymore. The nurse, Mateo, according to his name tag, frowned at Peter. “You were supposed to tell us where he woke up."

“I forgot!" Peter lied. He just didn't want their time together interrupted. Caelum smiled, and the nurse rolled his eyes, looking at Caelum.

“You lost a lot of blood coming here. Make sure you eat a lot of solids and drink orange juice. I'll call the doctor in here to check on your face, and then you should get back to resting.” He gave a clear glare at Peter, who shrugged helplessly.

"Sir, what about my eye?” He asked hesitantly.

Mateo sighed, “It would be a miracle if you regained sight in it at all. We can give you medicine to keep it from irritating, but. . . the third degree burns on your face will definitely leave scarring. There is a procedure we can take if it shows signs of infection or inflammation. We'll use skin from alternative places on your body, for example, your back, and use it there. You wouldn't even notice the scarring.”

"Like plastic surgery?" He asked and the nurse gave a half nod.

“Almost. . . I'll call the doctor in here and we can discuss it there.” Caelum nodded and the man left.

Peter turned back on the movie. Ten minutes later the doctor came in just as one of the more handsome lifeguards were getting eaten alive.

“Hello, I'm Doctor Johnson,” the man smiled. He had curly brown hair and dark eyes with bags under them and stress lines on his face. He was at least older than thirty, maybe forty. “How are you feeling?"

Caelum frowned, glancing at Peter, "My face hurts," he admitted. He didn't want to say anything because of the movie, but his head was throbbing and it hurt whenever he even twitched a muscle in his face. Despite this, whenever his skin brushed against the pillow, he couldn't feel anything.

Doctor Johnson nodded, “We can get you painkillers for now, but I'll have to take a look at your face though, and your eye. I'm sure Mateo explained that you may not gain sight in that eye again.”

Caelum nodded and the doctor came to his side. He tried not to flinch when the man’s cold, gloved hands touched him. He untied the bandages, and pulled them off his face. He hissed as they peeled, the blood making them stick to his skin.

Caelum blinked his eyes, looking around and adjusting them to the light. The doctor stared at him, shocked and confused. “What's wrong? What's going on?"

“This is. . . I've never seen anything like this. . .!”

"What is it?” Caelum demanded, confused and a bit scared. Despite the doctor's warnings, his eyesight felt fine. He tried it, winking in one eye and then the other, but there was no difference.

Finally, Peter spoke. “Your eye ― well, your eye’s iris ― it's _white_!”

Caelum froze, “ _White_?” He repeated. “That doesn't make any sense."

Peter pulled out his phone, tapping at it for a few seconds, before handing it to him. Caelum took it tentatively, frowning down at the front facing camera.

Half of his burned face was blistered and red, the sound peeling and black in several places. There were markings on his face where the metal had branded itself into his skin. Caelum inhaled when he looked a it, but tried to focused on his eye. His eye was a bit red from irritation, but Peter had been right. His usual dark brown eye colour had been changed, and was now greyish-white.

Caelum switched back, looking at both of then side by side. “How. . . this doesn't make any sense. . .!”

"I'll have to do more tests later,” Doctor Mendel said, standing straight. "But, for now, you should rest. I'll call an optometrist and get this situated.”

"Al–Alright sir,” Caelum said, still looking at his face. He had three stitches on his left cheek, but bruising had went down. “Thank you."

“My pleasure," he smiled, stepping back. “I suggest you get something to eat, if you can handle it, and then go to sleep.”

Caelum frowned, he was hungry, but he didn't want to move his face at all, much less eat something. Yet, he still nodded, “Yes sir."

The man gave a small smile, and went to the door, stopping for a minute, "That means no more _Jaws_.” Peter blushed and Caelum chuckled, as the man left.

Mateo spread some disinfectant on his face, then rewrapped his face with new bandaged. When he finished, he got his order of what he wanted to eat. Caelum explained he was a vegetarian, so he would be eating a salad with lots of tomatoes in it.

Caelum leaned back on the bed, exhausted. Peter was beside him, holding his hand. Caelum kept thinking about the camera and his face, how. . . _disfigured_ he was now. It was a _nightmare_. He might _never_ be able to change that, and even if he did, he would still _feel_ the scars. The way his father held his neck with a vicelike grip, pushing his head into the lit stove top. His screaming, sobbing, and begging, and the tears that left him. He was so scared, scared enough to kill his father.

He thought back to the camera, and he scowled, looking away. “Hey, Peter. . .”

"Yeah, what's up, Cael?” Peter asked, he had been leaning against the side of his bed. Peter managed to lie the bar down flat so he could rest his head there.

“Do. . . do you still like me?" He asked softly, "Even though I look like this?"

Peter sat up, "What do you mean?”

"I. . . I let my dad do this to me, I. . . I didn't stop him, he could've killed you, and. . . I don't know, I just. . . I figured I looked so different that maybe you wouldn't want to be with me anyone.” Caelum gave a little shrug, hoping his heightened senses would pick up on his pounding heart. "I–I would understand too, I just. . . I wanted to know because―”

Peter took his hand he was holding and pressed his lips to the back of it. Then, he stood, climbing over the bed, straddling him with his legs and kissed him again. Caelum brought a hand to his face, wanting to hold onto him longer, never wanting to let go.

Peter pulled away first and breathed against his lips, “I'm never going to leave you," he murmured.

"Do you promise?” Caelum asked softly. Everyone always left. His mom, his dad, the ghost. They all left him at some point and he just wanted to be held and talked to and loved.

“I swear," Peter kissed him again. "I love you, alright?"

Caelum sniffed, tears welling in his eyes. "I love you too."

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
The next day, the boys came to visit, along with Sarah and Dorri. Peter had to leave, he skipped enough school days to risk summer school and his GPA dropping below a 3.5. Caelum didn't mind, they spent enough time together that he didn't have to worry about whether or not he would come back ― Caelum knew he would. They needed each other, and it wouldn't feel right without it.

The boys were near ecstatic when they came to visit. Castor dragged Pollux along, who was very easily gaining the weight he lost. Although Castor was much more energetic, Pollux didn't miss a beat of it. He was still recovering, but in due time, he would get better and be running around right alongside Castor.

They launched themselves at his bed, “Caelum! Caelum!" They cried, and he laughed, hugging both of them. It was too easy to remember them tied up in the abandoned building, just barely clinging to life. Now, they were recovering and safe and alive.

That was _all_ that mattered.

He played games with them, opened the birthday gifts Sarah and Dorri got him ― they were French novels, the same ones his mother had on the shelf at their apartment. Their copies had been worn down and dusty where as this one was brand new and had beautiful colours detailing the front.

“We saw them at your apartment when we were cleaning up, and thought you'd like a fresh copy!” Sarah grinned.

Caelum was stunned, he kept fingering the front, tracing the detailing, hearing his mother in his head. “ _A good book is an adventure in itsel_ f, mon chéri (my darling).”

Caelum smiled down on the cover, blinking back tears, and thanked the woman. They both smiled, eager to be of service. For hours, they played games, told stories, and laughed together. Eventually, Caelum's face was getting sore from so much talking and laughing and the painkillers he took for them were beginning to kick in.

Sarah and Dorri said their goodbyes, leaving him alone. Caelum didn't mind. He busied himself with starting up his new freaking Stark phone, and reading _The Count of Monte Cristo._

After getting all his settings regulated, he checked the contacts and was surprised to see Sarah, Dorri, Peter, May, and someone else's number already programmed in.

Then, he got a text from the mystery number.

 **Unknown Number** : _glad you see you're liking the new phone_.

Caelum frowned, texting them back.

 **Caelum F:** _I'm sorry, who is this?_

 **Unknown Number** : _well, you referred to me as Tony freaking Stark._

Caelum's eye widened and he nearly dropped the phone.

 **Unknown Number** : _im sure our webbed friend explained the situation to you. dont worry about any of the expenses ill take care of it._

 **Caelum F:** _What do you want from me?_

 **Unknown Number** : _other than to keep the kid happy? nothing. enjoy the phone, kid._

Caelum stared at the screen under him, his head a mix of shock and happiness. He wanted to call Peter right now and tell him everything, but at the same time knew it wasn't so much of a good idea. He was in school and Caelum didn't want to ruin his grade worse than it already was.

Caelum continued to read for hours, until his eyes felt heavy and he fell asleep.

He continued this pattern for a long time. Sometimes, he would stare at the ceiling for hours, wondering what was next for him and his brother's. When he knew nobody was watching, he'd cry for the loss of his mother, father, and his brother's innocence. Despite Peter's claims, this mess was his fault. It had been a wild year so far, and Caelum had no clue how he was going to make up for it, but he knew he'd be able to do it eventually.

Caelum, for one, knew he was going back to school. After a lot of internal debating, he decided he would go back to Midtown, mainly because the administration decided to let him finish his year there for free. It was probably so that he wouldn't sue the school, but Caelum didn't mind. He would be with Peter everyday again. He would probably have to make up a lot of the work for his tenth grade year during the summer, but Caelum didn't mind.

His main issue was. . . well, _fear_. He was scared to go back, after everything that happened. Despite Principal Davis being stripped of his title, he was scared to roam the halls again. What would the kids there think of him? What would the teachers think of him? Would the new Principal be like Principal Davis, or would he treat him like a baby?

Caelum was scared, but it wasn't the kind of fear he had when he was staring at his father after he kicked down his door. It was the fear of the unknown. He didn't know how people would react to him coming back after being gone for a year. He didn't want to get hurt again.

He shook his head, sighing, he was being silly, and thinking like that was ridiculous. If Caelum didn't go, he would risk being put in the same situation as before, struggling over tuition and fees. The school offered it to him for free, he would be a total idiot not to accept it.

And, he didn't care about the other kids anyway. They could talk all they wanted, but they weren't in charge of his future ― he was.

Caelum survived his father, Principal Davis, and a psychopathic mind controller. He wasn't going to let anyone put him or the people he cared about, in danger again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
>  
> 
> One more chapter!
> 
> I just wanted to give a quick thank you to everyone who read this, and stuck with this story. It's been a rollercoaster writing it and seeing you guys' reactions from it. You guys really are the best. Thank you to everyone for your support and tears. There aren't enough words in the English dictionary to express how I feel about it. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> In other words, remember that survey I mentioned a while back? It's done! Here is the link: https://goo.gl/forms/mDt7nNZMnsIwI30J2
> 
> If this didn't work for you, don't worry. On Wattpad, it will be put in my website section, along with in my bio. On fanfiction.net, I'll put it in my bio to copy and paste, along with AO3.
> 
> That's it, y'all. We have one more chapter, which will be epilogue, and then book one will be done. Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for four great years of writing.
> 
> I'll see y'all on October 10th, and remember...
> 
> Don't melt~!  
> \- Happyritas 


	40. - 40 -

**chapter forty:**

  
“All rise. The presence of the flag of our country emblem of our constitution, remember the principles for which they stand. Department three of the superiour court is now in session, the Honourable Dakota Parrish judge presiding. Please be seated and come to order.”

Caelum sat awkwardly, moving his chair back with one arm, the other in a tight sling. The cut his father gave him exposed a major blood vessel, and he lost a lot of blood because of it. He had to get thirteen stitches and was ordered to wait while it healed.

The judge, Dakota Parrish, scratched the side of her face and spoke. “Good afternoon. Please state your names for the record.”

"Algol Caelum Forest,” Caelum spoke clearly.

Across from him, Principal Davis said, “Andrew Davis, the third." Caelum didn't look at him. He knew the man was sporting a head injury, but proved himself cognizant enough to appeal at the final hearing.

Caelum twisted his hands in his seat, breathing deeply, closing his eyes. He was fine, he reminded himself. Mr. Murdock said that it was practically an open and shut case.

Caelum wished Peter was beside him, he'd feel a lot better that way. He knew the boy had been in the seat directly behind him, so that thought comforted him a little.

This was the last one, Caelum reminded himself. Then they would be fine. The last one, the jury would put Principal Davis away for good and he and his brother's would be safe. His mother's soul could finally be put to rest.

He'd be able to breathe again.

“Has the jury come to a decision?” The judge asked and everyone's eyes shifted to the jury’s stand.

“Yes, your honour,” a man said, his face was covered from the nose down, he noticed. The man was watching him like a bug under a microscope.

“What is your decision?" His hair was covered by a conspicous hood, his eyes cold and calculating, and for a moment, a fleeting, stunning, terrifying moment, his mouth opened and no words came out, but Caelum knew what he was going to say.

“Not guilty, your honour."

His heart rose and fell, his arms shaking, tears in his eyes. He couldn't do this, he was so tired and Principal Davis had the biggest grin on his face. He rose from his seat, coming to Caelum.

“No, _please_ ," Caelum whispered, his body still trembling. He couldn't take this. He was going to die. He looked behind him, wanting to find Peter, wanting to hold his hand.

He wasn't there. _Nobody_ was there.

He turned back around and Principal Davis was on top of him, pushing him to the ground. “ _No_!" Caelum screamed, trying to back away, to get off the bed and run. “ _No_! _Please_!" Principal Davis dragged him back under him, his mouth opening and laughter spilling through his lips, echoing in his skull.

Caelum couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. Principal Davis had him pinned down and was taking his clothes off and he couldn't _breat_ ―

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Cold water splashed his face. Caelum shot up, hitting his head on the wall and immediately fell down. “Whoa, whoa, it's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I got you,” Peter said, holding him tight, not letting go.

Caelum breathed hard, his burned skin throbbing and his head pounding where he hit it. Caelum focused on Peter. He had his arms wrapped around him tight, rubbed his side, pressing his cheek to his head. “. . . Peter," Caelum breathed, taking in his shea butter scent. “ _Peter_. . .”

"I'm here. It's okay, I'm here,” Peter said gently. Caelum clutched his arm, focusing on his breathing, trying to calm down.

Several minutes passed, Caelum leaned his head back, breathing. “Do you want to talk about it?" Peter asked softly, and Caelum closed his eyes. “You don't have to, if you don't want to."

“No, it's okay, I. . . I'm supposed to write it down or tell someone.”

"I can get your journal?”

"No, I don't feel like writing.” And his hand was shaking, so he'd only be able to make scribbles anyway. He inhaled, rubbing his head. “It started, like they usually do. We, uh, we were in the courtroom. Mr. Murdock was next to me and you were behind me. Princ―Davis. Davis was there. The jury was giving the ruling and the woman stood up, and I. . .” he closed his eyes. “She said not guilty. I started to freak out and Da–Davis stood, he was coming towards me. I turned around to find you, but you were gone ― everyone was gone. Then, he was in front of me and he pushed me down and I couldn't move. He was pinning me against the bed and I couldn't. . . I couldn't breathe, and he―”

Peter hugged him tighter. Caelum tried not to cry on his arm. “He's in jail,” he reminded him softly. "150 years, remember? He's _never_ going to get out." Caelum nodded, rubbing his face, breathing. “Come on, let's go make some hot chocolate.”

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
Caelum stood in front of the building, Peter beside him. He wanted the boy to hold his hand, but then he remembered their promise. Despite being together, neither one was ready for anyone in the school to know, except for Ned, who was the first person they told. They would still be friends, but just. . . _not dating_.

“Are you ready?" Peter nudged his arm, and Caelum gave a worn, tired smile.

“As I'll ever be."

They walked to the school office ― it was still very early, and it was late May, everybody was either lagging behind to get to classes, or skipping altogether.

Caelum rubbed his hands together, entering the office. Mrs. Keeley was there, and she smiled at him, “ _Caelum_! It's nice to see you again!"

Caelum gave her a smile, trying to calm her nerves. "Good morning, Mrs. Keeley, how are you?"

“Good, how have you been?” Suddenly, her face shifted, and the look of pity crossed it. “I heard what happened. I am _so_ sorry.”

Caelum tried not to grimance, her bringing it up didn't help his anxiety, but he tried to keep his smile anyway. “It's alright, thank you." He glanced back at the door, where the Principal’s office was. “I'll have to go, we're going to be late. Can we catch up later?”

"Yes, of course. I'll ping Mr. Morita and tell him you're coming.”

"Thank you,” he gave her a small wave and continued to walk down the hall. He bit the inside of his cheek, breathing slowly, as he stared the door. For a split second, the nameplate changed from _Jim Morita_ to _Andrew Davis_.

His heart skipped a beat. He froze, subconsciously taking a step back.

_"Come into my office, Mr. Forest. We have to discuss your financials."_

Peter took his hand, bringing him back to reality, “It's okay, I'm here," he said softly.

Caelum gave a silent nod. “Right. . . _yes_ , of course.” He grabbed the door, and like tearing off a band-aid, he opened it.

Principal Jim Morita was inside. He stood at his wooden bookshelf, but turned to him when the door creaked open. “Mr. Forest, Mr. Parker," he greeted. Caelum contained his cringe. That man made him hate his own name.

“Just. . . Caelum, please,” Caelum said, and Principal Morita nodded.

“Caelum, have a seat," he waved him to the two chairs ― they were new, not the cold wooden ones with hard leather he was used to. Principal Davis over him, pushing his back to the chair as it teetered on its legs. His fingernails clawing into the wood until they were raw and bled. He was standing over him, taking his pants off, his dark eyes keenly watching him.

He nodded and moved silently to sit. He folded his hands, keeping his eyes on the ground, trying to hold back the memories.

“I know we talked over the phone, but just to reiterate, your tuition and fees will be completely free," Principal Morita said, moving to sit himself. "I've already set up tutoring for the summer for you to come here and get the classes you missed. A few of your teachers actually volunteered to help if you need it. It'll be like starting back up your year completely, alright?”

"Yes sir,” Caelum said. He didn't want to talk at all, he didn't want to remember anything. It was making him physically sick.

Peter spoke, “Cael’s going to need a new bus pass ― the student passes expire over the summer unless you have special regulations.”

"I can set that up, will that be all?” Caelum nodded, he had to get out of here. He could see the man pulling off his belt, forcing his mouth open and— “Everything should be set up by this Wednesday, and if you need. . .” His voice trailed off, but Caelum could see his lips still moving. All sound was replaced by Principal Davis breathing down his ear.

_“Get on your knees."_

His eyes rolled into his head, his heart racing, tears burning his eyes and he couldn't breathe. Principal Morita stood, but that made it worse. He was coming towards him, the belt gripping his throat choking him tight. He gasped, shaking, holding in a sob. He was going to die. He was going to die. He couldn't breathe. He was going to—

Peter grapped his arm and he heard the door close. They were running. Peter practically dragged him into the boys’ bathroom. Caelum leaned over the toilet and vomited. He couldn't get his taste out of his mouth. It burned his throat and tears came to his eyes.

“Just breathe, it's okay, breathe," Peter coached, rubbing his back. Caelum tried, it was ragged and desperate and he was barely holding himself together. The bathroom stunk, like all public school bathrooms do, but it was better than the smell of him, the taste, sound, feel of him.

 _In and out. Up and down. He gagged on it, it was hot and swollen. Principal Davis grabbed his head, gurgling out a moan. It was hot and thick as it jetted down his throat_. _It was too much, he coughed, it spilt out of the corners of his mouth._

He vomited again, trying to hold in a sob, his arms shaking, tears burning his eyes. Peter was rubbing his back, whispering soft things in his ears. Good things, not like Principal Davis.

Caelum exhaled, and slowly began to calm down. Peter saw him calming down, and sighed. It took a while, but eventually, he leaned against the stall, rubbing at his face with tissue paper.

He shuddered, closing his eyes. “We don't have to stay," Peter said softly. “We can go home. Principal Morita wouldn't mind."

“. . . _No_ ," Caelum whispered, "You can't miss anymore days and I need as much help as I can get."

“Cael, you're not okay," Peter insisted. “ _You_ go, I'll stay."

Caelum shook his head, "If I don't get over myself, then I'll never get better."

“It's not a matter or getting over yourself,” Peter argued. "It's _trauma_ ― you're _traumatised_. That's not a _bad_ thing!”

"It _is_ if it's interfering with my _life_!” Caelum snapped and Peter was silent. "I. . . I'm sorry. . . I. . . I shouldn't have yelled ― _shit_.”

"You're frustrated, I get it,” Peter said, and then he smiled his sunny smile. "C'mon, homeroom doesn't start for another thirty minutes, let's go to Starbucks.”

"I don't. . .” Caelum sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Peter, I don't want you wasting money on me."

“It’s not a waste if it's making you happy," Peter held out his hand, helping Caelum to his feet. "You deserve a lifetime supply of green tea with two sugars."

**° · ° · ° · °**

  
School ended rather uneventfully. People were nosy, but knew not to push anything. Ned was a little weirded out by the _boyfriends_ thing ― even if it was on the downlow. He was worried Caelum would replace him and push him out of their friends groups, but Peter promised him that would never happen. And, he got over it when Caelum promised to not push Peter down anymore stairs, or get him in trouble, or break his heart.

Of course, Caelum would do none of those things. Except for maybe getting in trouble. The three of them were now partners in crime after all.

When school was finally over, Peter went home, to go do his ' _Spider-Man’_ business and Caelum. . . well, he had somewhere to be.

It took fifteen dollars taxi's fare and a twenty-minute walk, but eventually he made it. An gated area outside the city on a big hill. He gave a nod to the grounds keeper and began to walk.

After passing several rows and glancing at crumbling headstones, long forgotten from time, he finally stopped. The two pairs of graves stared back at him with judging reproachful eyes.

_Here lies, Apolline Daphne Forest_

 

_Mother, Wife, Friend_

 

_Que son_ _âme_ _repose_ _dans_ _les_ _cieux_

  
He glanced at his father's stone.

_Here lies Justice Thomas Forest_

 

_Father, Husband, Friend_

 

_Man's greatest achievement is eternal rest_

  
“Hi Mom," Caelum smiled, “Hi Dad. I would've brought flowers, but the boys and I are on a budget, so. . . maybe next time?” He moved over to sit between the stones. He leaned against his mother's stone, wondering if she was sitting beside him. “I started school again ― told you I'm not lazy, Dad. It's interesting. Definitely different with Prin. . . _Davis_. With Davis gone, it's weird. I mean, I know I should be happy, but. . . I guess I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop? I know he's gone now, but I sometimes feel him still. He's not coming back, of course, but. . . _I dunno._ May wants me to see a therapist. I don't think I want to though. Being in a room alone for another person for an hour. . . it scares me. And, the fact that Davis made me like this makes me mad. I don't think I'll ever be normal again.”

Caelum moved, hugging his knees between where his parents were buried. "Anyways, good news is that I'm not blind in one eye ― thanks Dad. Some night, I have nightmares that my entire body is on fire. That you didn't just burn my face. I wake up screaming. That's why I sleep in Peter's room now. He calms me down, and it helps a lot.”

Caelum suddenly looked over at his mom’s grave. “ _Oh_! I forgot! Peter and I are dating! Well, half the time were dating. When were not at school, were dating. I hope you're not mad at me. I. . . I've always wanted to tell you how I felt about boys, but between school and church and everything else. . . I was too scared. I thought you kick me out, and then Dad would always talk about how much he hated gays. . . I didn't want to get hurt. I really hated myself a lot because of it, especially with Davis, when he would. . . take me to the office. I thought that since I hated doing it some much with him that it made no sense that I was gay. And, then being raised Christian and everything, I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought that maybe that was why Dad hated me and why you. . .” Caelum swallowed, blinking back tears.

"An. . . Anyways, Peter makes me happy and he helps. I really don't deserve him, he puts up with all the sh. . . _crap_ that I do. I really love him for that,” Caelum laughed, wiping at his face. “Anyways, the boys miss you. Both of you. They're staying with two women, they're lovely people ― Mom, you would _love_ Dorri, she is _just like_ Aunt Genevieve. They call me everyday and tell me the things they learned. Sometimes, Sarah ― Dorri's wife ― will give me updates on them. They're in therapy right now. I was really nervous about it, because I didn't want what happened to me happen to them, you know? I. . . I want to be a _good_ big brother. I want to protect them, and I―” Caelum held back a sob, closing his eyes and breathing.

“They're all I have left now. And, I–I’m not blaming either of you for dying, but they're all I have left and I wanna keep them safe. But it's hard, I'll never be you. I'll never be either of you. They need their mom and dad and I do my best, but I'm scared. I don't want anything to happen to them. I don't want to them to be scared of going into a fucking office because they might get _molested_. I don't want them to. . .”

Caelum stopped, breathing for a minute, rubbing his face. “I'm sorry for swearing. I just. . . I miss you. I miss you both. We need you, _I_ need you. And, I know you can't come back and I know I did this, but. . .” Caelum's breath hitched. “I'm _scared_ , Mom. I _need_ you and I'm _scared_. I don't know what to do but go back to school and learn. I know that if you were here you'd tell me to pray, and I am, I'm praying more than I ever had, but I need help, mom. I _need_ you.”

Caelum sat for several minutes, letting the tears run down his face as the sun shone in the summery blue sky. He sniffed, wiping his face. “I should get going. I have homework to do. I have a lot to catch up on.”

Caelum stood, twisting out of the awkward position and taking a few step away. “I miss you, Mom," Caelum said. “And, you too, Dad. Even if you didn't show it, I miss you both. I'll bring flowers next time, alright? I'll bring lilacs ― your favourite.” With those words, Caelum turned and began to leave.

"I love you."

**[END OF BOOK ONE** **]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · ° · °
> 
> Are you crying yet?


End file.
